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haunted-xander · 4 months

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I think one of the (several) reason for why Shadowbringers is so good is because the narrative is more about the individual characters than it is the Greater Conflict.

Like, the Greater Conflict is definitely there, obviously, it's what keeps the story going, but the focus is always on the people, much more so than the other expacs. HW and STB also have some level of character focus ofc, but it's very selective and even then the focus is based on them in the specific context of the current conflict.

But in SHB, the story bends around the characters' narratives, rather than the other way around. The story forms to put them in situations that challenges their flaws and limitations, by forcing them to confront it and actually deal with it. Even just at the very beginning, you see the twins being dealt a terrible hand that very neatly clashes against their faults.

Alisaie is confronted with a situation that she can and could never do anything about. She has no means to help the patients (at the time at least). The only way for her to help them is by eradicating the source of the affliction itself: the Light. But the Light isn't just some Big Bad she can kill and be done with. Even when all the lightwardens are down the Light is still there, it's just more manageable. Alisaie learns to not only see the bigger picture, but to care for it for her own reasons. For all that she has participated in Big Operations, it has always been because that's what others were doing, what others cared for to be done. She feels for the people of Doma and Ala Mhigo, but she didn't set out to liberate their homelands because she has any personal investment in it. But other people do, and she cares about what other people- be they strangers or friends- care about.

Caring about other peoples feelings and opinions isn't a flaw by itself of course, but doing things without any sense of personal purpose, is. This is what SHB helps her fix and confront, because it is personal now, she does it because she cares.

Alphinaud is forced into a situation where diplomacy and negotiations does and would never work. He can't talk himself into Eulemore, and he sure as hell can't convince Vauthry or the free citizens to let go of their life of ignorant luxury. The problem here also isn't as straightforward as a corrupt ruler, because even after Vauthry is revealed for the bastard he is, it takes considerable effort and convincing to get them to get off their asses and get to work. It's one thing to change the minds of people who wanted the same outcome just in a different way (like Ishgard- they rejected unity with the dragons, but they still wanted an end to the war), but it's another thing entirely to convince people that another way of life is even worth it.

And this is what SHB teaches Alphinaud, that words and deeds can achieve much, but that there is much more to diplomacy than appealing to their wants and/or sensibilities to convince them of an alternative outcome. His development may not be as immediately noticable as some of the others (largely bc he had a lot of it already from HW), but it is still very much there.

Urianger's development had already been build up and sort-of started already, but we don't really get to see it until it near explodes in his face after we kill Vauthry. Even after he swore off secrecy, he's forced to confront his morals when the Exarch bids his assistance. Urianger has always been looking at the greater picture, to the point he'd almost lose himself in it if it wasn't for the overwhelming guilt he feels. He works with the Exarch, because he knows he's the only one capable of it, and he hates the very fact that he is. When the climax of the plan is about to be executed, he is pained to the point that even he can't mask it anymore. He has betrayed their trust once more and once more it will result in the death of a friend.

But it doesn't, and that's what's needed for him to confront himself. As terrible and unexpected as the circumstances around it was, it did show him that there are other ways. There is no one way to solve a problem, the first choice doesn't need to be the only one. And he would find those other ones of he had just talked to the others.

The pay-off doesn't quite come until EW, where we see him actively make the choice to go against his first instinct of acquiesing to the Loporrits' plans, and instead chooses to consult us, but that scene wouldn't have made sense or even happened had it not been for his development in SHB.

Now, Y'shtola is a bit of an odd one because while she does get her due focus, she doesn't quite get the same amount of development as the others. Rather, it shows how she thrives when not held back by others interests and (often somewhat needless) bounderies. Her intelligence and charisma have the chance to shine, her independence and confidence now rewarded rather than punished. In ARR, she is constantly annoyed by the Maelstroms way of dealing with things, and how no one bothers to actually listen to her. Her advice and reprimands are almost entirely ignored until the problem blows up in their faces and they have no choice but to concede that she was right.

Being independent and confident aren't flaws by themselves, but her sometimes aggressive approaches to telling others off does her few favors. In SHB, she has the Night's Blessed who actually heed her word and respect her, they listen to her and actually take what she says- be it advise or reprimand- to heart.

She does also, however, have to deal with Thancred who, much like the Maelstrom, ignores her reprimands and doesn't listen to her. The difference here is that her bluntness actually serves a purpose. In ARR, her bluntness lacks tact and meaning, simply a result of frustration. The Maelstrom won't listen to someone who doesn't come up with fleshed-out arguments and solutions, but Y'shtola doesn't bother giving them any until she knows they'll listen. But with Thancred, she does give him the solution. It's just that the solution is him. His words, to be precise, and his acceptance. And he needs to be reminded of that, and she does. It doesn't automatically solve anything, but that's simply how it is with complicated situations like that.

Speaking of Thancred, his narrative is probably the most important of all for SHB. He's always been shown as a capable, but ultimately self-destructive man who genuinely does not know how to deal with himself in a healthy manner. Theoretically speaking he knows, he recognizes that he is self-destructive, but he still has no idea how to actually fix it. It's been shown as early as ARR when it results in him getting possessed, but it's not really made a point of until it almost ruins his relationship with Ryne. Up until now he could just ignore his problems, but with Ryne he can't because now The Problem(s) aren't just his anymore. Anything that would hurt him now would also hurt her, meaning that if he wants to continue doing the one thing he actually cares about (protecting his loved ones) then he needs to get his shit together.

But Thancred doesn't know how to. And for all that his friends try and try to help him, he doesn't know how to. He's paralyzed. Thancred is so deep into his self-destructive habits that it takes the threat of both his and the person(s) he loves the most in the worlds deaths to get him into action. He doesn't know if it's Minfilia or Ryne who will return, and I'm not sure he expected to survive Ran'jit. He only has this chance, and if he wants to die without (as many) regrets he has to do something now.

And he does. He does and what it is he does is tell Ryne that whatever happens, it has to be her own choice. That he will accept any outcome, that he will still care about her no matter what, that as long as she lives or dies as she wants to, that he still loves her. He still loves her. And it works, because that's what he's needed to do all this time, to be able to just tell her that she matters. That he cares.

He tells her to live her own life, and he learns to live his own too.

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stvharrngton · 2 years

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three or four times

a/n: my weaknesses are titles and endings so I apologise if they are horrible ghsjdjdj. the more I read this the more I dislike it but I just couldn’t leave it unfinished

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!fem reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: enemies to lovers sorta, a little angsty, swearing, steve pining asf

prompt: “last time i checked, you guys were at each others' throats. how come you're sending heart eyes every time you see her now?"

requests are open!

The first time Steve thought you were pretty was in high school. You a year younger, leaning against your locker books held close to your chest, talking to another girl from your year - someone from Steve’s history class he was sure.

The way the pink skirt you wore hugged your waist, teased at your thighs, the clean frilly white socks a stark contrast to your dirty Converse. You giggled with your friend as you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. Steve was gone right there and then, your laugh intoxicating - the way your lips reached your cheeks sending a pang right to his heart.

I’m in love, Steve thought.

He sauntered past you and your friend - Rachel, maybe? Nah. A smirk plastered on his face, his hand raised so he could wiggle his fingers at you in greeting, his left eye closing in a wink. Tommy H and his friends hollering in a trail after him, clasping him on the shoulder.

I hate Steve Harrington, you thought. And his dickbag friends.

The second time Steve thought you were pretty was during the fall of 1984. Your younger brother having claimed Steve as his sidekick for whatever problem he was trying to solve. You rolled your eyes at the notion of Dustin being involved with Steve, claiming he was an asshole.

But as you ended up with your brother, Max and Lucas and unfortunately, Steve, at the junkyard trapped in the broken down bus your irritation subsided for fear. You shielded the kids behind you whilst you watched Steve cling onto his studded bat - ready to swing.

Once the Demodogs had scampered off and the coast was clear, he turned to you and the kids. All charming smile and smugness complete with that damn wink again. You rolled your eyes at the gesture.

“Knock it off, Harrington,” you scoffed, “let’s go.”

Arms crossing over your chest hugging yourself as you all began the long walk home, attempting to provide a slither of comfort to your cold body. Eyes trained on Lucas and Max bickering in front of you, Steve and Dustin lingering behind you.

Steve couldn’t stop staring. Granted, it was dark and he was staring at the back of your head but his eyes were glued to your figure. When you turned your head to check on Dustin he caught a glimpse of your face.

Cheeks pink and the tip of your nose tinted red, eyes glassy and your hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, two curly strands framing either side of your face. Steve’s brow furrowing at the thought of you being cold; wanting to wrap you up in the biggest blanket he owned. You were cute, Steve thought. So very cute.

When you finally made it back to your house, you sped up to your front door ready to be greeted by the warmth of the inside, Dustin held Steve back - his arm falling back against his stomach to stop him.

A glance at you before he turned to the older boy next to him, “What’s going on with you?” Dustin whispered.

“What?” his eyes fell over to you, watching you dig in your pockets for your key, “What are you talkin’ about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me! I’ve seen you ogling her all day!”

Steve scoffed, “Your sister? Henderson I-“

“You’ve been making googly eyes at her all day, Steve! Whatever this is,” Dustin mocked, fingers drawing imaginary lines between you and Steve, “stop it. She’s off limits.”

Finally fishing the key from your jacket pocket, you turned it in the lock, your brows joining together at the sight of Steve and Dustin having some sort of agitated conversation, “Dustin! Move your ass, come on.” you whisper-shouted into the night.

“Coming!” Dustin called out to you, rushing his way over to your house, not before he turned back to Steve, “Off. Limits.” he stated, gesturing back to you.

Steve could only hold his hands up in defeat, waving you both inside your house before beginning the walk down the street to his own. It was then that Steve Harrington forced himself to hate you for the sake of your meddling little brother.

The third time Steve thought you were pretty was the beginning of summer ‘85. The thick Indiana air hot and sticky, all busy days at the local pool and cherry slushies. Steve managed to get a job at the new Starcourt mall - Scoops Ahoy ice cream parlour complete with the uniform of a sailor.

Unfortunately for Steve that job came with a co-worker, that co-worker being your best friend, Robin. Making your appearances at Scoops reoccurring and making Steve’s situation ten times harder than it already was.

As if on cue, you sauntered into the ice cream shop making a beeline for the counter and Steve couldn’t help but stare, cloth wiping the counter in circular motion on automatic. You looked pretty, so pretty, no, beautiful actually. High-waisted denim shorts pulled in at your waist with a cute red belt, tight black t-shirt donning the logo of the clothing store you worked at hugging your chest, finished with your red-rimmed sunglasses in the shape of hearts perched on top of your head, freckles sprayed across your face.

Your soft pudgy thighs on show for everyone to see and it drove him crazy, you did it on purpose, he swore. You dinged the bell on the counter obnoxiously, snapping the boy back to reality.

Steve scrambled to look natural, like he wasn’t so obviously staring at you.

“Nice get up, Harrington.” you teased, an outstretched finger pointing to his outfit.

He rolled his eyes at you, “Can I suggest you get some new jokes?” scooper in hand, ready, “The usual, Henderson?”

“And can I suggest you become less of an asshole?” you said, “but yes, please.”

The boy scoffed at you, “Sure, anything for you.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes now, slapping your dollar bills down on the counter and snatching the small cup of mint choc chip from Steve.

“You’re welcome!” he shouted after you as you went to sit at your usual booth to wait for Robin. You didn’t mean to be such a brat but you couldn’t help it; Steve just irritated you. It’s not like you didn’t want to get along with him, but he was just unnecessarily mean lately so you gave it back as good as you got.

Storming through to the back Steve slumped into one of the chairs in the break room, hards carding through his hair in pure frustration. He sighed, calling out to his co-worker, “Robin! That piece of work you call a best friend is out there waiting for you!”

“Have you tried, I don't know, actually talking to her instead of bickering all the time?” Robin pondered, “I think you would actually get along great.” A scowl her only response.

Robin left Steve in the break room wondering if there was any chance that you felt the same and why the hell he was letting your little brother control his love life.

Present day and Steve was head over heels, he was convinced.

You could only grimace when Dustin invited you over to Steve’s place - an afternoon by the pool in his backyard where he would be shirtless? Awful, you thought. But your brother insisted he needed a ride and that Robin would be there and so you reluctantly agreed.

Steve could only gawp when you arrived, Dustin in tow. Tiny shorts that barely covered your ass, red strap of your bikini top peaking beneath your shirt as it hung off your shoulder.

Sweet brown eyes trained on you all day from behind his signature black RayBans, Steve was sure if anyone could see his pupils they would be blown, full of affection for someone he could never have. A soft smile plastered all over his face as he watched you giggle with your brother and his friends, as you lathered yourself in suncream, kicking himself when he didn’t offer to help when you couldn’t quite reach your back.

Steve sat at the edge of the pool, long legs dangling in the cool of the water. Palms pressed into the flat of the grass, head back letting the sun kiss all of his moles and freckles in the way he wished you would. A nudge to his knee brought his gaze back down to the culprit.

“Last time I checked, you guys were at each others’ throats. How come you’re sending heart eyes every time you see her now?” Robin questioned, eyes looking up at Steve before glancing back at you on the sun lounger.

Fuck. He tried not to be obvious, thought the sunglasses would shield his eyes from everyone else. That they would hide the way his gaze lingered a little too long on the cherry red bikini you wore, how the barely there ties were high on your hips, how you looked so damn pretty.

“I literally have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, Robin.”

Robin simply chuckled at the boy, “Sure, Stevie. Do you like her?”

A sigh, a shrug. Steve really couldn’t be bothered to have this conversation with his co-worker turned best friend right now. Especially when you were here looking like that by his pool.

As the afternoon turned into evening, the energy of the group simmered down a little. The kids moving inside to devour and pick at the pizza and snacks provided. Steve watched you from his kitchen - beer in hand as your feet curled into the grass beneath. A shit mumbled from his lips, he made his way outside to you, sitting on the lounger next to yours.

“Hey,” he whispered, “how come you’re outside by yourself?”

Never looking at him, you shrugged, “I like the quiet.”

Steve watched through his lashes as you sipped your beer, lips turned down, no sparkle in your eyes. You looked sad. All he could muster was a nod in reply.

Your tongue clicked against your teeth, you turned to Steve now, “Why do you hate me, Steve?” you paused, eyes glassy as they bore into his dark brown ones.

His brows furrowed together at your question, “Hate you? I don’t hate you, what makes you say that?” he feigned ignorance.

You shrugged, the label on your beer bottle becoming more interesting. “Dunno, I just- you’re so mean sometimes.”

Steve’s heart shattered into pieces, he was sure, like you reached right into his chest and stomped all over it. If only you knew how he really felt.

“I don't-” he stammered, looking for some sort of reason to give you, like you had just caught him in headlights, “I can’t, you just have to believe me, sweetheart. I don’t want to be mean.”

The endearing term all but stopped you in your tracks. You sniffled, bleary eyes narrowing questioning what he was saying, “What do you mean?”

Shit. Shit, shit, fuck. Well, it was now or never, Steve thought.

“It was Dustin.” Steve hushed, like he almost didn’t want to nark on your little brother. Like he didn’t want to admit he let a 14 year old have a say in his love life.

“Dustin?!” you screeched, “What do you mean, Dustin?” Arms flailing into your lap.

“I- he said you were off limits, that I couldn’t, that we couldn't..” he trailed off, “so I thought it might be easier this way, I wouldn’t fall hopelessly in love but I was so wrong.”

“Steve,” you whined, “why on Earth would you listen to that little shithead?”

The boy chuckled, fingers tugging at his brown locks, shrugging, “He was just trying to protect you, I kinda admired it.” he paused, contemplating what to say next, “And I don’t exactly have the best track record,” his gaze flicked down to the ground now, “I know you thought I was an asshole in high school.”

You rolled your eyes now, “That was high school, Steve. It’s not like you’re the King of Hawkins High anymore, right?” you said, hopeful.

A breathy laugh left his lips as he nodded, his eye trained on you as he watched you stand and sit yourself next to him on the lounger. Knees knocking and shoulders brushing.

“Did you mean it?” you asked.

“Hm?” he looked up at you with confusion.

“What you said,” a smile toying on your lips, eyelashes fluttering up at the boy, “that you were hopelessly in love with me?”

A blush crept across his cheeks, heat prickling the back of his neck but he grinned at you nonetheless, “Yeah, yeah I did.”

Steve laced his fingers with your own then, the foreign feeling welcome and comforting. A touch that said I'm here and I'll take whatever you're willing to give me. Steve’s gaze fell to your lips, plump and inviting, before climbing back to your eyes.

You shifted next to him, your free hand came to sit on top of his thigh as you inched ever closer. Then Steve’s lips were on yours. It was soft and slow, the dim taste of warm beer and his strawberry chapstick crowding your senses. You sighed into the kiss, Steve licking into you all pretty, like he had been wanting to do this for a long, long time.

His hand came to cup your cheek, thumb soothing the pink of your sunburn as you broke the kiss. Chest heaving and Steve's forehead resting against your own. Eyes dreamy and thick with honey, nothing but pure adoration washing over his features.

You both burst into a fit of giggles, eyes lighting up like the stars in the night sky. Giddy and full of excitement.

“Good to know.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #I had the ending pictured and planned so clear so we had to get there somehow fellas #don't know what I think of this but yeah he we go I guess #k.fic #the henderson reader trope really has me in a chokehold

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