#his whole identity was taken away from him i feel so so bad
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Genshin x Reader - Silent Treatment
Okay so this was for an anon a while back that requested Childe + silent treatment, so 1) I got carried away and wrote the same prompt for several others, and 2) I lost the original screenshot of the ask I was going to post this with, sorry anon, but I have the content for it at least :’)
(includes: Childe, Xiao, Albedo, Heizou, Cyno, Kaveh, Kazuha, Xingqiu)
//this is mostly very lighthearted but there's still implications of yandere content. Some mild pain, Childe’s contains very mild nsfw, there might be indicators of fem reader somewhere in here, Kazuha’s and Xingqiu's are a little darker so both of those are at the bottom
Childe
“Hey.”
The second time he said it, he waved his arm to catch your attention, as if under the impression you somehow didn't hear him, despite being trapped to the confines of the same small room.
One little bedroom, far too small at that, a temporary lodging whilst on the ship’s return voyage home. Four days, which you were about halfway through at this point.
You were thoroughly convinced it was some sort of trial imposed upon you by a higher power. The sort of grueling test of perseverance so common in tales of legendary heroes, through which they'd become stronger, or reach some well-earned reward for their virtue.
Unfortunately, you had a feeling no such reward awaited you.
“Hey…”
The third time, it was more like a whine, he slouched over in the chair on the other side of the room before, after another moment of pause, setting aside whatever oh-so-important paper he was reading (those identically-masked soldiers were always handing off important things he was supposed to sign, but he never looked over them for more than a few minutes), and walked over to where you sat, needle in hand, mending his clothes after he got them torn for the umpteenth time, no doubt doing something completely unnecessary, after very specifically requesting he be more careful, and— well, it was one of many reasons why you were so very irritated.
He waved his hand directly in front of your face. “You spaced out or something?”
You clenched your jaw, exhaling a huff of frustration through your nostrils before jerking your head away, returning to your work.
He bent his knees slightly, crouching down to get at eye level with you, but you kept your gaze fixed, refusing to make eye contact.
Even though you kept your gaze to the task in your hands, he was still directly in front of you, and thus you could still see his face go through the stages of reaction. First a slack-jawed confusion, then eyes widening with realization, and then — much to your dismay — you saw the corners of his mouth turn upward into a sly, eager grin.
“Are you ignoring me?”
You gritted your teeth, eyebrows furrowed, poking the needle through one side of the cloth before reaching around to pull it through, making sure the action was harshly done and thus conveyed your frustration.
Which was, predictably, taken as a confirmation.
“Awww. That's so mean.”
His tone was obnoxiously gleeful, playful even — you were hoping for a negative response, not whatever this was. You tried to conceal any reaction yourself, knowing he'd only be satisfied if your irritation showed on your face.
“But, you picked a really bad person to try that with, you know. I'm pretty good at being annoying if I want to.”
The immediate retort that came to mind — that he could be very annoying even when he wasn't trying — took all your willpower to refrain from speaking aloud. You grinded your teeth.
“Hmm…”
You didn't like that sound. He was contemplating something, that couldn't be good for you.
His hand latched onto your wrist, forcing your work to a halt — at least he had the decency and forethought to specifically grasp the needle before yanking the whole thing away from you, setting it on the bedside table. Likely messing up your handiwork, you thought with ever increasing frustration.
Before you could move away, the mattress shifted and bounced with the sudden added weight as he moved onto it behind you, grabbing you by your arms, pulling you back against him. His arms wrapped around your body, firmly pinning your own arms to your sides. He then rested his chin on your shoulder — you could feel the smile on his face as the side of his face brushed against your neck.
Ah. So that was the tactic. The message, unspoken as it was, was clear — he had no intention of letting you move until you spoke to him.
You clenched your jaw and closed your eyes, refusing to give in.
A minute or so passed that way, likely testing your reaction, waiting to see if you'd give in so easily. The unfortunate thought occurred to you that he would probably be disappointed if that alone worked, that he probably wanted you to make it more difficult, and was likely enjoying the challenge. Perhaps you should have put a bit more thought into the plan, but it was too late now.
Your body stiffened as his hands met your bare skin — one reaching up your shirt, the other maneuvering underneath the waistband around your hips, groping at the sensitive flesh beneath. Your jaw clenched, and your hands balled into fists, the discomfort no doubt evident on your face, but you maintained your silence.
“Oh, wow. You're pretty dedicated to this, huh.”
You hated the fact that he sounded amused, more or less a confirmation that he was in fact enjoying this. Dammit.
You bit your lip, trying to focus on looking around the room — not that there was anything to really look at — and not the sensation, nor your increasing desire to give it up for the sake of strangling him. He continued the discomforting motions for another few moments, but soon gave up, slouching forward against you and returning to holding you still in his arms.
…And then, nothing. At least, for a moment. Only his arms wrapped around you, and the quiet, only dispelled by the low sounds of the ocean outside.
And then—
You squealed, lurching forward as a sharp pain shot through your shoulder. Your back arched and you jolted as you tried to squirm, only held back from doing so by the iron grip holding you in place.
You tried to turn your torso around, struggling against the grip, sputtering in near disbelief as you attempted to speak, voice quickly going shrill.
“You—you just— did you just bite me?!”
Rather than give any response, he merely pulled you to lean to your other side, bringing his mouth up to your opposite jugular, taking a dramatically deep breath, no doubt just to elicit a reaction.
And admittedly, it worked. “No no no, don’t you dare—eek!”
You squealed again as his teeth sank into your flesh once more, keeping a firm biting grip for just a second before releasing you again.
You began to squirm, trying to pull yourself away. “That— the hell? I was already talking to you, you little…!”
“Mhm. I know.” He pulled you back effortlessly despite your efforts to pull away, resting his head on your shoulder, nuzzling the side of his face to yours. “I just wanted you to make that noise again.”
A low, grumbling noise of irritation came out of your throat. You finally went limp, resigning yourself to your defeat.
“Fine!” You sighed. “What is it?”
He paused.
“…Eh?”
You could hear the confusion in his voice. You sighed.
“You were trying to get my attention, remember? What were you going to tell me?”
“Oh. Uh…”
There was another pause. A few seconds of quiet passed before he finished—
“I actually don’t remember now.”
You closed your eyes and let your head fall forward, saying a small prayer to the gods that this ship sank and took you with it.
Xiao
“I'm going to get food for you. Do you have anything particular you want?”
With those words breaking the silence, you now had your chance to carry out the intended act of spite you’d spent the last hour planning in your head. It had been quiet for some time, making it a bit difficult to exercise said plan. Your captor was perfectly content with silence itself, which meant that this was, perhaps, not the best tactical approach, but you didn’t exactly have many tools of conflict at your disposal, so this expression of resentment would have to do.
Clenching your jaw, you exhaled in a frustrated huff, turning onto your side to face away from him. After a few moments of pause, he spoke again, seeming to not understand your lack of response.
“…I was asking you a question. I need to know what to bring back.”
Still, you didn’t reply.
You heard him shuffle over to you, feet brushing against the cold stone floor, before you felt his hand grasp your shoulder through the blanket, giving you a light shake.
“What do you want? You need to tell me.”
“…”
A few more seconds of silence passed. You couldn’t see his face, but you could feel the staring on your back as he seemed to slowly piece together the significance of your current behavior.
“…You are doing this on purpose.”
He gave his conclusion as if it needed to be said aloud, apparently less immediately obvious to him than it was to you. After a few more seconds, in a similar tone, he drew another conclusion.
“You’re upset.”
If not for your current effort of silence, you would have made some snarky comment about his brilliant deduction skills.
But you said nothing. Your eyebrows furrowed. Part of you did want to lash out, to express your irritation verbally, but you forced yourself to stay silent. More seconds of silence passed by.
Taking your lack of reply itself as confirmation, his next words took on a tone of increasing frustration.
“This is pointless. What do you accomplish by ignoring me?”
“…”
“You will die without food.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…Stop that.”
“…”
A minute of silence passed. The adeptus was seemingly uncertain of how to proceed, perhaps confused to your whole purpose with the effort of silence.
And then, you jolted at a sudden sharp pain as the cartilage of your ear was grasped and subsequently twisted.
“Ow ow ow!!” You bolted upright, jerking your head out of his grasp, clasping a hand over the now-sore ear as the momentary pain began to ebb away.
You glared, narrowing your eyes. “Was that necessary?”
He folded his arms, an equal look of displeasure on his features, and with a deadpan voice, replied—
“Yes.”
You waited for anything further he had to say, but it seemed that was all he had to say. You sighed, slouching over.
“…I dunno. Just get me whatever’s easiest for them to make.”
He folded his arms.
“Why didn't you just say that then?”
You merely shrugged, not having the energy nor the desire to explain any concepts of human social phenomena — a process that was always frustrating and time-consuming — on this day in particular.
After a few moments of pause as he looked to the ground, he looked up at you again, eyebrows furrowing.
“…Don't do that again.”
You nodded, exasperated, and closed your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I won't.”
You opened your eyes, turning your head to look at him, only to be met with an empty room, only the faintest trace of color, like a flickering light before it faded.
And thus, you sighed, laying back down in bed, resolving to try and conjure up a new tactic.
Albedo
“Hey, do you mind turning that light off?”
It was the first time he had spoken to you since your earlier fight. Well, perhaps ‘fight’ was not the best descriptor — it was more like you getting upset over something trivial and whining, only to get increasingly upset when he gave only his typical dry, snarky replies, ultimately ending with you turning your back to him — but nonetheless. It seemed he thought that enough time had passed that you would be over your petty anger.
He would find that assumption to be incorrect, and as childish as it was, you felt some satisfaction by remaining silent from where you sat upright in bed. You rested your head against your hand, turning your gaze out the window.
“Hey, ___,” he said your name again, trying to gain your attention. “The light, next to you.”
Still, you didn’t reply, this time closing your eyes as if to block him out, this time turning your body away from him and towards the window instead.
“…Ah. I see.”
You waited for him to continue, to press you about why you were upset so you could resume your earlier ranting.
But then, there was only silence.
You waited another moment. And another. And another.
But he didn't say anything further.
After a minute or so had passed, you slowly turned your head, confused by the lack of the reaction you had desired.
Seeing you turn in his peripheral vision, his motions of whatever he was working with paused as he turned his gaze towards you, tilting his head. “Mm?”
The bastard had the audacity to smirk at you. You glared, jerking back to turn away from him again.
…And more time passed. You waited. Minutes turned into an hour. And then another. You picked up a provided book to read after the boredom became unbearable, deciding that as long as you still gave him a cold shoulder, he'd still get the message.
…And even more time passed. A third hour. The sun fell and set and it grew dark, moonlight — and the light you'd still neglected to turn off — illuminating the room.
And then, finally, around three and a half hours after your initial interaction, after you were already lying down for the night, you heard the distinct sound you'd come to recognize as him putting the various tools away into a drawer. Then footsteps that pattered around the room, putting a few other things back into their proper places, the rustling of clothes being removed, and finally, the footsteps came close.
The mattress shifted and creaked as he climbed into bed next to you — finally turning off the lamp as he'd requested. He leaned over you, turning the blinds shut, and then, laid down in bed.
…And then there was only quiet.
The irritation swelling in your chest finally boiled over. You bolted upright.
“…Ugh! You— you…!”
“Oh, and here I was worried you were developing a throat cold.”
The dry-humored reply only served to infuriate you further.
“Why didn't you say anything?”
He didn't bother sitting upright himself. You could make out his form, but perhaps it was a good thing you couldn't see his face, as it was certain either a smug or unbothered expression that would only anger you further.
“My patience exceeds yours. It was just a matter of waiting.”
Your fists clenched so hard your hands trembled. You opened your mouth, but before you could give a spiteful reply, the sheets shifted as he sat up alongside you. His arm reached out, wrapping around your waist, and firmly pulled you back down to lie side-by-side.
He took a deep breath in, a heavy sigh out. “I'm pretty tired now, though. I understand you have some complaint to make, but I’d prefer you save it until tomorrow. Is that alright?”
Your eye twitched. You crossed your arms, turning your back to him.
“Jerk.”
“Mhm.” His arm reached over and pulled you close, your back pressed to his chest. “Goodnight.”
You huffed, pouting, but nonetheless—
“…Goodnight.”
Heizou
“Hey, so, I noticed there’s no food made or anything… it’s fine if you’re tired,” he raised his voice just enough as was appropriate for speaking to someone from the next room over. “I can go pick something up.”
The ever-upbeat tone to his voice only irked you further. Normally, you would have had food made yourself by the time he’d been home — now he’d been back for half an hour, and had finally walked into the kitchen to grab something, seeming to notice your act of protest. You’d been hoping he would immediately suspect something was wrong, but of course, he was too optimistic for that.
“But, if I’m going to do that, I need to go now,” he continued, as he made his way back into the living room, “before all the stalls close for the day.” He came to stand directly in front of where you sat on the couch, huddled with your blankets.
You said nothing, keeping your gaze turned to the floor. He tilted his head at your silence.
“…That good with you, or…?”
Several more seconds passed. You huffed, turning to the side.
Thus, it finally seemed to click with him.
“Oh dear. Cold shoulder.” Much to your irritation, though, he only sounded amused, not genuinely upset. “What might that be for?”
You gritted your teeth, pulling the blanket over your head, just leaving enough space for you to see. You could still see him from your side as he sauntered over a few steps, leaning over against the wall as he continued.
“I’m being serious, you know. I don’t know why you’re upset… although I suppose forcing me to figure it out is the intent, of course.”
Every word that came out of his mouth only made you angrier. The audacity to sound so smug, a playful sort of dramatism he always seemed to carry in his voice. It irritated you to no end, especially in moments like these.
And to make matters worse, you could see him smile in your peripheral vision.
“I know you probably intended this to make me upset or something, buuuut, you’re really just giving me a challenge to figure out.” You didn’t miss the cocky expression on his face. “And that’s kind of my thing, you know?”
…You supposed he was right about that. Dammit. You probably should have thought about that before deciding to go through with this… but it was too late now. You merely shifted around, pulling your knees up to your chest, hoping your frustration showed on your face.
“Will you talk to me if I get it right?” He only waited for a single second before seeming to realize the futility of the question. “Ah, well, I guess asking that is pointless. Hmm…” He put his hand up to his chin in a pensive pose, speaking aloud as much to himself as to you. “If you just wanted me to get you something, simply telling me would be the more logical course of action.”
Your mouth pulled into a taut line with your irritation. You waited, listening as he continued his deductions.
“You don’t have any complaints that have gone ignored or anything… and even then, you’d probably just remind me if there was something I’d forgotten to fix.” He stood back upright, beginning to pace around on the floor. “Besides, this sort of behavior generally indicates that the other party has committed a specific transgression. If you just wanted something, this would be an impractical way of going about your goal.” He nodded, as if confirming the thought to himself. “The whole silent treatment thing is generally just a means of communicating displeasure, so that the offending party is forced to acknowledge their transgression.”
You pulled the blanket fully over your head, flopping down onto your side in exasperation and frustration, listening to him go on. At this point, his analysis was starting to feel humiliating, the description of it more or less a reminder of just how petty and childish it was. You felt a burning sense of embarrassment in your chest as you curled up into a ball, hugging your knees.
“There are two major factors to narrow it down — an active or passive transgression,” he continued, “and if the former, was it something I said, or something I did? Hm…”
You heard his footsteps make their way around the room as he spoke.
“You were talking with me normally this morning, and I didn’t notice any hostility then, so it would have to be something occurring just within the half hour or so since I came home, or—”
And then, he stopped mid-sentence.
“Ah.”
The tone of voice of that single syllable was immediately recognizable as realization. You felt a surge of bitterness come up in your chest again, and although it was embarrassing, you were still determined to get your point across.
“You forgot,” you finally muttered. Your voice came out incredibly whiny and petulant, but at this point, you just dealt with the nagging sense of shame.
“I know, I know. I said we’d go take a walk and get some food when I got back, right?” You heard his footsteps draw closer, coming over to you, and the couch cushions shifted with his weight as he sat down. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay? It was just a busy day, is all.” He reached over and rested his hand on your head through the layer of blanket. “I’m not going back on what I said, I just forgot. We can still go, we have time.”
You slowly sat up, pulling the blanket back down and uncovering your face. Your face felt hot, you looked down to the ground, unable to bring yourself to look him in the eye.
“…Sorry,” you murmured. Now that it was over, you felt horribly embarrassed by the whole stunt you’d pulled. You buried your face in your hands.
“Aw, don’t be upset. It’s fine.” He stood up, smiling, extending his hand out for you to take. “Come on, the lines will get long in just a few minutes.”
Now, you were actually quite grateful for his cheeriness. Still flustered, but humbled, you grasped his hand, letting him help pull you up. “Okay.”
“Mm.” He took a few steps over to the door, turning the knob, before coming to a halt. You saw the expression on his face waver, the smile twitch. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but stopped short, closing his mouth again and taking a deep breath—
“I won’t talk to anyone.”
You gave him the assurance before he could ask, your voice quiet, as if by speaking softly, the matter itself could be more easily swept away once you were done addressing it.
He let go of the breath he’d taken, exhaling as his shoulders relaxed. For just a second, there was some discomfort in his expression, but it was gone within a moment, replaced with another playful smile.
“Ah, thanks.”
And thus, he turned the handle, pulling you out into the fresh air, and the many faces of strangers you’d learned to pretend didn’t exist.
Cyno
“I'm going to head out in just a minute. You can come with me, if you promise to behave well.”
You grinded your teeth. The choice of words was irritating enough, but you were primarily angered by the mere notion that being able to go outside — such a simple, basic right — was somehow an earned privilege.
No matter. You were already determined to ignore him anyway. You chose not to respond, returning to the book in your lap as you sat on the bed, refusing to turn to face him where he stood a short length away.
Sure enough, after a moment, you heard his footsteps on the stone floor, gradually coming around to your side, leaning over to try and look at your face.
“…Did you hear me? I was saying—”
You huffed, turning yourself away from him.
There was a pause.
“Oh.”
It didn't sound particularly bothered, only mildly surprised — perhaps that itself irritated you even more.
You saw him tilt his head out of the corner of you eye, white strands of hair brushing against his shoulder. “Isn’t this rather pointless? Communicating your emotions would be faster and easier if you just verbalize it.” After a pause, he added, “You can't keep this up forever.”
He crossed his arms, waiting for a response, but after several moments, received none.
He sighed. “Well, suit yourself, I suppose.”
You were not expecting, however, what came next — the book you were focused on was suddenly torn from your hands. You almost verbalized the ‘hey!’ that ran through your mind, only catching yourself just in time to stifle any noise, but the irritation and surprise surely still showed on your face as you looked up at him in bewilderment.
“What?” He tilted his head. “The obvious course of action here is to do things to upset you into speaking. You have to give it up at some point.” He shrugged. “I might as well expedite that process.”
You inhaled, automatically preparing to retort, but snapped your jaw shut as you caught yourself before you spoke once again. Your hands curled into fists.
He held the book under one arm, quickly reaching over and grabbing the two others sitting on the table beside the bed. “Alright… hm.” He turned his head, scanning the room. “I'll take all your reading material, and leave you alone with nothing to do while I'm gone. That's… maybe eight hours. You’ll have a good deal of time to reflect on your choice, at least.”
Your mouth pulled taut in an expression of displeasure. You didn't like the thought of such boredom.
He made his way over to the nearby desk, scooping up the remaining books into his arms before turning towards the hallway door. He turned his head back towards you.
“Unless you change your mind.”
He then began taking steps towards the door — slowly, deliberately so. It was infuriating that he responded with such calmness, and far more so that he was so easily able to completely overturn your attempt with barely any effort, without even being affected by it at all, and above all, most infuriating that he knew you'd give the exact response he anticipated.
And you did.
“Wait, wait—”
He came to a halt, but didn’t bother turning his head back to look at you. “Yes?”
Your hands balled up into fists, you were so irked by his words and demeanor, but nonetheless, you told yourself, you had no choice. You weren’t about to endure the alternative.
“…Fine…” You stood up, looking to the ground in embarrassment and frustration as you stomped over to where he stood. “I’ll go.”
He gave you a nod. “There, see, that was a much easier way of going about this.” He then took a few steps back towards the desk, depositing the books that had been used as leverage in your bartering as he added, “don’t you think?”
You rolled your eyes, displeasure scrawled on your face. “…I guess.”
You stepped out of the room before he did, waiting for him to exit before following behind him, since you didn’t know exactly where you were going. For a few moments, you merely walked in silence. You didn’t know if he intended to address the matter again — hell, you never knew what he was thinking — but after a minute or so of silence, you got your answer.
“You know, if I were as spiteful as you were being, I might have rescinded the offer entirely,” he said, voice ever so blunt and monotonous. “And forced you to stay in there with nothing to do.”
You grinded your teeth, narrowing your eyes as you looked over at him.
“…Are you trying to get me to thank you?”
He didn’t miss a beat in his reply.
“It would be appreciated.”
You crossed your arms, puffing your cheeks out in a petulant pout, which seemed to get your refusal across well enough. He shrugged.
“Well, it was worth a try.”
Another minute passed. You took a turn down a dark hall, which seemed to prompt another thought to his mind.
“And in the future, you should probably be aware that such a strategy is rather weak. It’s very easy to turn around on the one using it, as you just observed.”
You huffed in irritation. “Yeah, yeah.”
“It’s actually very similar to a common flawed strategy used by beginner card players. You see…”
You sighed in exasperation, pressing your palm to your face as you prepared to tune out the following hour.
Kaveh
After the second time calling your name with no response, you finally heard him get up, walking over to where you lay in bed. You clenched your teeth, irritation exuding off your form in waves, so you hoped, at least.
As soon as he got closer, you huffed, closing your eyes, waiting for him to speak, and he did.
“Hey…”
Which you used as your cue to turn over, rolling onto your other side so that your back faced him.
There was a few seconds of pause before he pieced your actions together.
“…Are you mad at me?”
His voice was soft and pitiful-sounding, so much so you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt.
That momentary guilt was, however, almost immediately replaced with another surge of irritation. No. You knew exactly was he was doing, it was intentional, and you weren't going to fall for it.
He walked around to the foot of the bed, leaning over to look you in the eye.
“Hey—”
But you averted your gaze, pulling the blankets up over your face, turning over onto your stomach.
There was a moment of pause. His tone shifted.
“…Hmph. Fine.”
With that, he turned on his heel, stomping back to the desk at the other side of the room, and sat down, huffing as he resumed his work. You could hear the bitter irritation in his pencil scribbling, much heavier-handed and harsher than moments prior.
You waited for him to say something more, thinking his resolve to walk away from being ignored wouldn’t last long, but to your surprise, after some time passed, he still managed to stay quiet.
And more time passed, and then some more. You’d initially begun ignoring him around ten-thirty or so, and now, you confirmed as you peeked out from under the blankets — having almost fallen asleep — it was well past midnight.
Finally, your attention turned back to him as you heard him put the pencil down. He stood up (you did not miss the harshness with which the chair was pushed back), walked (with heavy footsteps) over to the floor lamp at the side of the room, and turned it off, leaving only the moonlight to cast light through the room.
But rather than coming over to bed, he only made his way back to the desk, dramatically slumping back down into the chair, putting his forearms on the desk before slouching forward and burying his face against them.
And then, there was only silence. You waited, but nothing happened.
It wasn't exactly difficult to figure out the intention. On one hand, your immediate thought was that it was petulant, but then again, you felt a twinge of guilt realizing you were more or less the instigator here (even if it was only in reaction to him annoying you earlier), and that your course of action wasn't exactly mature either.
Well, you supposed the right thing to do now would be to at least try and reconcile. You sighed.
“Kaveh.”
That time, you were the one who only got silence as a response. Turning your own act against you, you guessed.
You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and, having been a bit hesitant the first time, fully committed to resolving the situation. You tried again.
“…Kaveh.”
….
After a few more moments, your voice took on a tone of frustration, which you tried to suppress for the sake of your goal of conflict resolution.
“Kaveh. I know you can hear me. Come on.”
He didn't lift his head, so his response — thankfully giving one, at least — was not only in a bitter, pitiful-sounding voice, but also muffled by fabric.
“What.”
You sighed. “Look, I… I'm sorry, just… come to bed, okay? Let's just forget this.”
Ugh. Although you still figured it was the right thing to do, you realized with disappointment that you were giving in yet again, as you tended to be the one to do. You resolved to be a little stronger-willed next time… then again, you always did that too.
“…No.” Even in the dark, you could see him — albeit only in the form of a vaguely red-white-blonde lump — shift around as he spoke, bitterness in his voice. “You obviously don't want me over there. I'll sleep here.”
You reached up to pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation as the defeat settled in. “No, I… I do. Please?”
Once more, you only got silence, even after waiting for half a minute or so. Finally, you took a deep breath, in and out, and — after a moment of hesitation to ask yourself if you were really going to do this, to which you determined it was for the best, regardless of what it did to your pride — swung your legs over the side of the bed, feet brushing against the cold floor.
Your footsteps shuffled against the hardwood with each of the very few steps it took to get from the bed to the desk. You could see him fidget as you approached.
In what you hoped would be perceived as affectionate, you bent your knees just enough to be at the same level as where he sat, an awkward positioning, but just enough to reach out and wrap your arms around him in an embrace.
“Come on. I’m sorry, okay?”
There was a few moments of quiet, and for a second, you thought maybe you would have no success, maybe he really was that upset. But then, he lifted his head, still speaking in a blatantly upset tone of voice.
“…Only if you tell me why you were doing that in the first place,” he muttered.
You sighed. “I dunno… I was just upset about everything from yesterday, and… look, it doesn’t matter.” You smiled, although you weren’t sure if he could see it. “Let’s just go to sleep… come on, please?”
There was a moment of pause, but finally, he stood up, huffing in residual stubbornness as he walked over to bed, falling flat on his back. “…Fine.”
You were too tired to be annoyed at that point, instead walking over, taking your place next to him. You decided to try and take the high road, so to speak. “…Sorry for ignoring you.”
You reached out and put your hand on his head. He turned, pulling you close, burying his face against your chest.
“…No, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, muffled by your clothing and flesh. “You’re right… let’s just forget it.”
You hummed in agreement. You were going to leave it at that, but after a moment, you felt him shift. He propped himself up on his elbow to speak.
“Hey, wait, what time is it? I was gonna show you the thing I was working on when you wouldn’t talk to me… I can still—”
“It’s one in the morning. PLEASE go to sleep.”
You both stiffened as the muffled voice came through the wall. Several awkward seconds passed.
Ah… you forgot how little privacy this place gave you. You raised your voice just enough to ensure you were heard.
“Sorry, Alhaitham…”
You heard him sigh and turn over on his side of the wall.
“Yeah, yeah.”
More silence as the seconds ticked by.
“I’ll, uh, show you tomorrow.”
“…Yeah.”
And with that, he finally laid back down to sleep.
Kazuha
“Ah, look at how bright it is. I didn't realize it would be a full moon tonight.”
He had a soft, blissful expression. He was one of those people that always seemed to find a great deal of joy in simple pleasures of life… depending on the circumstances, it could be either endearing or annoying.
At the moment, it was very much the latter. If you weren't so mad, you'd feel bad about what you were about to do.
It would certainly work, seeing as he was talkative by nature, always making little comments as you went about your day. You'd already tried to make your displeasure very clear — ever since you'd begun setting up camp for the night (in the middle of nowhere, where you now spent the majority of your time), you'd given him curt, cold, one-word replies, and the irritation was certainly audible in your voice.
He turned his head towards where you sat cross-legged on the ground, a wide smile on his face. “We should go for a walk, since it's so bright.”
The very last thing you wanted to do was more walking after having spent the entire day doing just that. You clenched your jaw, slouching over and resting your head against your hand.
A few seconds of quiet passed. After realizing you weren't responding, he leaned over to better look at your face, eyebrows raised.
“Hey, is something wrong?”
You huffed a heavy breath, jerking your head away from him.
“…Oh.” You could see him smile in your peripheral vision, albeit now an awkward, uncomfortable sort of smile. “You’re, ah, still upset about earlier, I take it?”
You didn't respond, maintaining your silence.
“…I'll take that as a yes… haha…”
The laugh was as forced and awkward as his expression. He stood silently for a moment, as if hoping it would be a very short effort and that you'd break your silence, but you did not.
“...It seems you really know how to find my weaknesses.” He gave you an awkward, sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his head. “This is bothering me more than I would have thought it would… but that's your intention, I imagine.”
You didn't really have any particular direction to take this effort — you didn't have anything you wanted to accomplish with it or anything, it just seemed the only way you could think of to express your frustration. Now, you weren't certain what to do — your only real course of action, you supposed, was to keep it up. You kept your silence. He moved to sit beside you, just a short distance away.
Silence followed, only disrupted by the crackling of the small fire beside you and the wind weaving between the tall grass. He kept up the same cheerful-but-mellow voice as always, the one that so very much got on your nerves whenever you tried your best to exude negativity, which he always seemed to shrug off effortlessly, perpetually unbothered.
Yes, your snide, sometimes even mean comments, your cold tone, your disgusted expressions, those never seemed to bother him at all. He just laughed and smiled and carried on as he always did.
With this, on the other hand, it seemed you’d finally found a weak point. You resisted the urge to grin, quite pleased with having found a greater success than you’d even expected.
Meanwhile, his own smile continued to falter, twitching right alongside his arms.
“If there's anything I can do that will make you… not do this, I'll gladly do it. You just… you know, have to tell me.”
You saw his fingers curl, straining the fabric as they dug into his thighs with such force and strain that they began to tremble.
But for a few minutes, he did nothing. Perhaps he was just waiting, giving you time to see if you'd change you mind, or maybe he just couldn't decide how to proceed. You kept your gaze focused on the scenery, the blades of grass as they waved back and forth in the breeze, the reflection of the moon wavering in the pond off in the distance. As irritated as you were, the landscape was admittedly quite serene.
You were brought out of your focus by the rustling sound as he stood. You remained still, but your heart began to accelerate as he took a few steps towards you, his ever light-footed way of walking barely making a sound, maneuvering behind you before slowly sitting down.
He shuffled forward, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you back. Once your shoulder blades touched his chest, he tilted his head forward, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
You fought the urge to squirm. You didn't like the quiet. Something about it, in that moment, was ominous, suffocating, as if some innate instinct was telling you something was wrong.
When he finally lifted his head, he spoke directly into your ear, breath warm against the flesh.
“I don't want to hurt you.”
The sudden quiet, low voice sent a chill down your spine. You found yourself going stiff, eyes widening.
His grip tightened, squeezing your waist firmly enough that it began to hurt.
“…I don't like doing that… it makes me feel really weird, you know…?”
It grew tighter. His fingers began to dig into your sides, ten small points pressing with painful force. You stiffened, body reflexively arching forward to get away from the pain, but they only dug in harder, pulling you back.
“But,” he continued, voice low and quiet, so soft yet somehow so chilling, “I really don't like you doing this.”
Your heart felt as if it were pounding out of your chest. Your breathing grew quicker.
He tilted his head downward, resting his forehead against the back of your neck. The final words came out wavering, almost a whisper.
“So… you’ll stop this, won’t you?”
You swallowed. Your response came out instinctively, the dread you felt having easily defeated your stubbornness.
“O-okay,” you stuttered as you spoke, “I'm sorry, I didn't… I didn't mean to make you…”
The pain came to an abrupt stop, his entire body relaxed with a heavy sigh of relief.
“Ah, haha,” this time, he squeezed you in his arms only enough to convey affection. “I was worried for a moment there.” His voice immediately shifted back to its usual timbre, soft and soothing. “I’m glad you weren’t too upset.”
You shook your head, eyes still wide with fear, needless to say struggling with the psychological whiplash of the rapid shift in the atmosphere.
If he noticed your stiffness, he didn’t say anything, instead opting to affectionately rest his head on your shoulder, leaning his face against yours. “Well, it’s probably too late to walk anyway… and you’re probably tired, too. Hm…” he paused for a moment, then lifted his head, tilting it up to the sky. “We can appreciate the beauty of the night while being sedentary, though. Say, are you familiar with the constellations?”
You struggled to give a verbal answer. “A-ah, well, I…” You swallowed.
“Ah, that’s alright. I know them very well. Right now, hmm… see that one directly above us?”
He started to point up, you let your gaze follow his direction as he began to ramble on about this and that star. Most of the time, you found that soft-spoken but avid enthusiasm rather endearing — although in that moment, you found it a bit difficult to appreciate.
“And a little to the right, those four that form a bit of a square shape, that’s—hey, are you cold?”
“Mm?” You gave your best attempt to smile, knowing he could at least see the side of your face. “I, uh, I guess… why…?”
“You’re just shivering pretty badly,” he replied. “You should have said something. Here…”
He leaned backwards, grabbing the blanket atop your shared makeshift sleeping bag, pulling it over and wrapping it around the both of you, covering you from the night wind that, in reality, barely even did anything to alleviate the sweltering summer heat.
“That better?”
You nodded. “…Yeah.”
“Mm, good. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”
Once you nodded, he wrapped his arms around you again, pointing back up at the sky and resuming his lesson.
Xingqiu
“There’s a yearly festival going on tonight.”
You were already irritated, but the cheerfulness in Xingqiu’s voice when he came bounding into the room certainly did not help.
He quickly made his way over to where you sat, leaning over to the side to better look at your face.
“It’s one of the most exciting ones the harbor holds, in my opinion. We should go!”
Silence. You said nothing in reply, only curling your fingers into fists, clenching your jaw and looking down at the floor.
A few seconds passed as he processed your response, or rather, lack thereof. Given the dispute that had taken place a few hours ago, you were certain it wasn’t difficult for him to figure out.
“Ah… aha… surely you’re not still upset about earlier, are you?” He tilted his head, the smile on his face unwavering. “Come on, this will be fun. It’s only for a few days, so we should really make the most of it.”
More silence. Even though you didn’t speak, you didn’t try to hide the spite and irritation on your face.
He then crouched down to get face-to-face with you. His smile was still there, but his eyebrows shifted to an expression of displeasure, the top and bottom halves of his face seemingly misaligned.
“You’re not going to let some silly little disagreement ruin your whole day, are you?” He reached out, patting the top of your head. “Come on, now, you’re more mature than that.”
You almost snapped at him, but you held your tongue. You had become increasingly aware of the subtle ways he seemed to manipulate your thoughts and feelings, slipping in little choices of words to have very specific effects, like with the last thing he’d just said. It irritated you to no end — much more so how often it worked, only for you to realize it later on.
But not today. You were going to be firm, resolute, not let him influence you, so you told yourself. You huffed a heavy breath, crossing your arms and jerking your head out from under his hand.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his expression shift — his eyes narrowed, his smile fell, and you heard the soft -tch of disapproval as he stood upright — only for his face to shift back to a pleasant expression as quickly as it had fallen to an unpleasant one, a degree of composure worthy of being called a honed and trained skill.
He sighed, overdramatically so, holding his hands out palm-up at each side and shaking his head. “And here I was trying to do something to make you happy. Oh well.”
He turned on his heel away from you, facing the door.
“How unfortunate. I suppose I'll just have to go by myself.”
He began to walk towards the exit, each step deliberately slow, an unmistakable smugness to his eloquent, dramatic way of speech.
“Of course, I'm sure my father will ask where you are...” he sighed again, shrugging his shoulders. “I'll just have to tell him that the spouse he found for me is so very disagreeable.”
You clenched your teeth. You could feel it coming, knew exactly what the next words out of his mouth would be. You nearly trembled with how hard your muscles tensed.
He paused his steps right at the edge of the door, and without bothering to look over at you, in a voice just so perfectly quiet, he added—
“I'm sure that will have a positive effect on your family’s standing with mine.”
You clenched your jaw. There it was. The one card he always held, an instant defeat.
“Wait…”
The word came out of your mouth on impulse. You winced at your own failure, but it wasn’t as if you had much of a choice.
Then he decided to turn around.
“Oh?” He tilted his head, cheerfulness returned to his voice and expression. “You’ve changed your mind?”
You shuffled over to where he stood, keeping your gaze to the ground. “…Yes. I’ll go.”
“…”
There was a pause. His eyes were half-lidded, the look on his face and the heavy tension in the air making it obvious what was expected of you.
But again, choice was not a luxury you had. You swallowed your pride.
“…Sorry for… being like that.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, that? It’s no big deal, really. I’m not upset at all.” Then, he extended the same hand out to you. “You’re ready, then?” He smiled, this time seemingly back to a genuine cheer. “I already have a route planned out to get us to all the best spots in one night.”
You nodded, taking his hand in yours.
“Sounds great.”
#kaveh w the uno reverse card#genshin impact x reader#these were really fun to write#id like to eventually go back and do other chrs as well#also I need to make more xq content...#i feel like ive said that before but i need go actually do it aaaaaaaaaa#hes my baby boy
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11 with Poe? 🥺 💞
𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄
a/n: this prompt with poe is so soft and warm it's actually melting my heart. i'm a massive sucker for someone taking care of the person they love in such a simple way like this. it's short and more of a drabble, but i really enjoyed bringing some softness to this man. i always seem to put him in angsty situations, so he deserves this.
summary: "he was with you. the person he longed to be around. who’s smile made him smile, and who’s laugh made him laugh. rather than looking for a quick escape, he found himself hoping that the mission would take even longer."
word count: 1k+
pairing: poe dameron x reader
warnings: not explicit, soft poe, flirting, fluffiness, poe dameron being hopelessly head over heels.
Squinting against the bright light of the sun, you traversed your way through the field, trying to catch up to the group ahead. It was a simple mission. Head out to a planet, find whoever was willing to trade shitty x-wing parts for something far better, and get back before dinner. Really it was more a quick vacation than anything else—a chance to get away from the chaos that your lives had become.
Poe shifted, checking to see exactly where you both had ended up in the hour you’d been walking. It’s not that you were lost. You were simply exploring. Or at least…that’s how Poe put it. You however had been keeping track of the different paths you’d taken, making sure to mark on your map where exactly you had to backtrack to get where you needed.
He sighed for the tenth time, scrubbing a hand down his face, his brows pulling together with frustration. It was clear that getting back to base before dinner wasn’t a possibility. Which meant you would have to find a place here amidst the greenery and gorgeous landscape.
You didn’t mind the idea much. However you couldn’t necessarily say the same for Poe.
“So where exactly are we?” you asked, trying to comprehend the bits and pieces of the foreign language. Growing up in the galaxy meant you knew more than your fair share, but sometimes it was hard to learn it all.
“Who the fuck knows,” he muttered, turning to look at yet another green hill. It looked identical to the last five you passed.
“It’s getting late.”
He nodded. “Think we can make it back to the ship tonight?”
There was a possibility of that happening if you turned back now, but you could see the sun begin its descent into the horizon, the day coming quickly to a close. The planet was known for housing less than lethal life forms, which made the idea of camping outside that much more appealing. You slept in a tiny bunk back at the base. Barely enough room to stretch out your legs before you hit the wall beside you—the open space around you felt like a damn gift compared to that.
“We should find a closed off area,” you suggested, remembering the many times you were forced to sleep outside whilst on a mission.
“Lead the way.”
He traipsed along behind you, eyes stuck to your surroundings in case of danger, and you didn’t do anything to interfere. You understood he wouldn’t feel safe sleeping on an unknown planet unless he was sure nothing bad was to happen. If he was alone he wouldn’t take precautions. But that was the difference. You stood beside him, untarnished by the tragedy of war. Beautiful like the summer flowers his mother used to pick on Yavin 4.
“The map says it shouldn’t be that much father,” you said in the hopes that it would offer some reprieve from how disappointing this whole mission was.
“That’s fine,” he mumbled, catching a glimpse of how the sunset enshrouded your face, creating a glow across you that nearly punched the breath from his lungs.
If he were with anyone else on this mission he would have been irritated. Beyond that probably. He could have seen himself trying to contact Leia from where you were, asking for a transport back, but he wasn’t with anyone else. He was with you. The person he longed to be around. Who’s smile made him smile, and who’s laugh made him laugh. Rather than looking for a quick escape, he found himself hoping that the mission would take even longer.
“I’m sorry about all this.” Poe felt his heart begin to sink, matching the movement of the sun. “I know it’s taking too much time. I swear I thought I read the map right.”
His pace faltered until he found himself stopping altogether, hand reaching for your arm to turn you. “Why are you apologizing?”
You sighed. “I just…I know how irritating all of this can be.”
“Sunshine—”
“And I know you have other important things to do for the Resistance.” You turned, running a hand across your forehead. “I could have asked Finn to come with me instead. Or anyone else. But I…I like…”
Poe stepped forward so quickly his boot nearly got caught on a small hole in the ground. “You like?”
Another long breath left you, eyes shifting up to finally catch him in your gaze. “I like your company.”
He felt the start of a smirk and tried to tamp it down, but there was no use. “My company huh?”
“Don’t get cocky flyboy. You’re not the worst person to be around.”
He was way past cocky at that point. Your words filled him with a warmth that sent his heart racing so hard it nearly stopped altogether. But you looked nervous. As if the words had been bottled up for so long you felt wary about heaven bringing them out into the open. You were unprepared for his smile, for his hand to reach out and pick a piece of grass out of your hair, only to use that to drag you even closer.
“I know I’m not,” he said softly, grunting when you lightly punched him in the chest. “Just been waiting for you to say it out loud.”
“You’re such a pain in the ass—” Tugging yourself away, you were ready to throw another meaningless curse at him, but Poe had solidified his plans long before you began to admit your feelings.
His lips caught yours in a kiss, effectively silencing you and stopping your movements. You felt a rush of dizziness go up to your head, a soft sound of contentment falling from your mouth into his. And Poe felt his entire being light up. Pulling you closer, he clutched at you tightly, hands sliding to your back and breath washing across your face.
“I’m glad I’m here with you,” he breathed against your cheek, nose nudging against yours—waiting eagerly for you to smile and pulling him back into a searing kiss he longed to drown in.
#poe dameron x reader#poe dameron x y/n#poe dameron x you#poe dameron fluff#poe dameron#star wars fic#my writing#in love with love weekend🌷
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Oh Brother....s?
I had the most brilliant mini-idea while raging at video games because my parents suck at em. Anyway, there's really no correlation there, but the idea!
So we all know the whole "Danny is related to (Batkid) and he was give away because blah blah" or "he died and blah blah". We know those, and we love them, but what if, hear me out, Danny is related to MULTIPLE of them.
Danny is the child of Willis and Talia.
Now he was definitely not planned or anything, it just happened during a random mission and Talia couldn't bother to deal with it much. She decided that if the child lived she'd give it to Willis, a sort of test. It's not like she needed the baby, Damian had been born a little while before. Talia is one of those mothers who doesn't LOOK pregnant even when she's about to have the baby so basically, Danny does end up being born but is a really sickly kid, like REAL sick.
Of course, she really couldn't care less about the kid so baby Danny was given to Willis, who just gave Danny to Jason and Catherine. He's like 8 or so, so he isn't Robin yet, and he is SO happy to have a little brother. Except he's terrified for Danny, whose name was originally something else with Daniel being his middle name thanks to Jason (also why he kept the name Danny and not his original first name), but he doesn't want Danny hurt. After a few years, just before he becomes Robin, he gives a barely like 4-year-old Danny to a shelter or something with a blanket and a note.
Everything goes the same with both of them from there. The reason why Jason is easier on Damian compared to the others? He kinda looks like his baby brother, not identical but like, there's a resemblance, and he kind of finds it uncanny. Reason Talia even gave the time to help Jason? Well, he's technically the older brother of her younger child, and after having Damian for a while she does feel a little bad. Even if she doesn't want to meet the kid, she figured helping his older brother was a good enough way to apologize.
Danny remembers his older brother. How he looked and his name, and how he always took care of him. It's why even when his new adoptive parents neglected both him and Jazz he doesn't think anything is wrong. Jason had raised him. Now Jazz was. It was simply normal to him. He's just got major parent issues honestly.
The only people who know about his older brother are Jazz and Tucker though. His parents never were told because they'd been too busy to learn about it. Jazz had helped him on the earlier nights when he cried for Jason. And Tucker had learned when they first became friends as kids. Even if he was close to Sam, he never mentioned Jason though, it kind of felt like something he shouldn't touch anymore. It'd been years and even if he still had that star blanket, the note he vaguely remembers with it had been taken and put with his papers...and well he didn't know where those were.
Jason had already died and come back when Danny had the accident, so neither was aware of the other still. Danny does the whole hero thing for about 3 years before everything came crashing in for whatever reason, and he has to run. With no plan, he just follows his core and ends up in Gotham but he doesn't know why. Gotham herself is THRILLED to have him back because Jason was hers and this was Jason's little brother as well as her king! So she's trying to help the disoriented and hurt boy to his brother.
Cue shenanigans and angst though and it take a good MINUTE for Danny to even meet the Bats, let alone Jason. I'm thinking everyone meets him in one way or another before Jason is getting something from the cave while they're talking about this meta kid who LOOKS kind of like Damian but not at the same time, so they need to figure out if it's a clone or what. Jason sees the picture and is frozen, not even noticing the fact that he started crying while the whole fam is freaking out.
It's Damian, who looks between Jason and the picture, that notices the subtle differences that had them thinking it was still familiar were from Jason. And dun dun dun, it's Jason's little brother. He never knew who the mother was and after someone gets him out of his like mini-panic from knowing his brother was close by, he just bolts to his bike to go find him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I actually think I may make this a one-shot series. If anyone else wants to use this idea though feel free as well! Just tag me or smth :D
I honestly do think this is gonna be another thing I write though, I kinda love this idea a lot XDD
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dc#dcmultiverse#dc comics#danny phantom#danny fenton#ghost king danny#jason todd#red hood#willis todd#talia al ghul#damian wayne#robin#dc robin#batfam#batfamily#tucker foley#jazz fenton#this is such a crack idea but I'm treating it seriously XD#Like in my brain it is a very serious and angsty with a good ending fic#I'm so gonna have to write this at some point so you guys can see what I mean#lotta tears are required in this one
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It's crazy how literally everything about why Bad is fucked up can be linked to Atlantis. I don't even think the Federation is half of his trauma.
He lies compulsively about everything, but his whole identity is built on a lie. He's just made of lies. Yes, he lies because he's mischievous, but I don't think he can stop lying. He is so fearful of his past catching up to him, that, for 11,600 years, he's been lying about not being a demon. Telling someone what species you are is just introductory level knowledge. And Bad cannot even reveal that much to others. When we're starting with this much repression, is it really a surprise that he can't ever be truthful? And this, of course, all began because he's terrified that people will find out he destroyed a city.
He has a "family first" mindset that isn't exactly original, but it is unusually intense. He is very much the type to burn the world for his loved ones, and he's very willing to act on it. Every parent had heavily grieved the loss of their kids, and many of them unleash this grief in destructively. No parent has swung so far dark that they actively tortured another being. This is NOT to say Bad loves his children "more", this is only to prove that Bad's extreme is just so far removed from everyone else's. This can all stem from the fact that Bad's relationship with loss has, in my opinion, permanently fucked up the way he forms attachment.
So, everyone in Atlantis dies. Great. Bad tries to live. He forms friendship with more mortals. They die. He forms new friendships. They die again. This repeats for thousands of years. The only exception to this rule is Skeppy, and his relationship with Skeppy borders on co-dependency. His "obsession" with Skeppy feels so foreign to other islanders, and it should be from a mortal standpoint. But Bad has to be careful about who he lets in to avoid loss, so if he can love one person freely, then of course he will love them with everything. The same can be said for Dapper and Pomme. They're his children, and he loves them without any of the paranoia he subjects to anyone else. And then every single attachment gets taken away from him. He doesn't have an anchor anymore. It's not surprising he's forming an unhealthy dependency on Ron, and he's not going to give a fuck about anyone's feelings or morals if it means getting his family back.
The same can be said for his paranoia. He's overly paranoid because he was forcibly summoned to a place where everyone around him died. This is canon, confirmed by cc!Bad himself. He's been like this BEFORE getting dumped on murder mystery island! And if his paranoia is worsening because of the island, then of course his "worse" is going to feel drastically more intense than others'. Everything here is just validating pre-existing habits.
All of this is a cocktail for emotional disaster. Bad has been hard at work repressing everything for 11,000 years, and is losing everyone he uses to keep himself sane. I'm not even sure how he can heal from the loss of Dapper and Pomme, even if temporary, because he hasn't even begun to heal from Atlantis. It makes his friends' desperation to save him that much sadder. They're out of their depth with this one, the first step has to be made by Bad himself, and nothing he has done has convinced me that step will happen.
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Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 4)
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5
Word Count: 13.8k
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)
Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.
Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.
Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Angst, body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, unrequited love, mutual pining, fatphobia (if you squint?), Babysitter Steve, unresolved feelings, manipulation/deception, Things That Require Communication (Too Bad There Isn't Any), Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, brief mention of suicide, self hatred, loss of identity, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, dry humping
Note: Ok this one...took a while. And after 3 rewrites and me coming to a 3 am epiphany that I'm a better writer than I give myself credit for, here we are. Shout out to @ghost-proofbaby @trashmouth-richie @br0ck-eddie @big-ope-vibes and I'm sure a lot of other people for getting me through this. My computer is currently running like a potato and doesn't want me to add more to this text post.
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
"What do you guys think he's doing?"
"He seems pretty focused. New lyrics?"
"Nah, he has to be planning something really messed up for Friday's session."
"Or, instead of lurking around and gossiping like old biddies," Steve raised his voice to add to the commentary. He glanced up from his notebook and passed an expectant look at the rest of Corroded Coffin as they hovered a few feet away, lunches in hand, hesitant to join him at the lunch table. "You could just ask. Now are you guys gonna just stand there looking like nerf herders or are you gonna sit?"
The boys immediately jumped and shuffled to the table to take their seats.
"Uh, so...Eddie," Jeff began hesitantly as worked on the latch of his lunchbox. "What, uh, are you writing?"
"Miller wants an essay about the Constitution," Steve explained and scratched his forehead with the worn-down eraser of his pencil.
"Oh shit, and it's due today?" Dave went wide-eyed.
"Nah, not til next week," Steve shrugged, and then looked up to see the dumbstruck expressions on Eddie's friends' faces. "What?"
"You're...doing homework that's due next week?" Gareth laughed. "Who are you and what've you done with Eddie?" The other boys chuckled and Steve couldn't help but crack a secret smile.
If they only knew.
It was another hour, another day, another week in the body of Eddie Munson.
For the most part it had been bearable, and Steve wondered if it was actually getting easier or he was just getting used to it. He really hadn't realized how many plates Eddie kept spinning though, and when he initially questioned how Eddie continued to fail senior year...well he quickly changed his tune.
On top of the Hellfire Club, Corroded Coffin gigs and practices, and the endless parties that he seemed to be invited to deal at, he seemed to take care of everyone.
He made sure the kids and the guys were all protected from bullies, which meant Steve had to perpetuate the whole Satanic facade--he was getting pretty good at the devil horns and tongue. The money he made dealing immediately got split between various stashes around the trailer, then his and Wayne's wallets, which made Steve extremely guilty about the allowance his mother bribed him with gave him. And if that wasn't enough, Eddie was the one who shopped and made meals for Wayne and, surprisingly, Reefer Rick.
Steve had only seen Rick a handful of times over the years before Eddie had taken over as the designated dealer at all the high school and college parties. More recently, Rick would only make a trip into Hawkins to stop by the VFW and then swing by Family Video. He never questioned why...and he almost felt ashamed that he never did before now.
He got too hung up on rumors and jokes. About Rick. And about Eddie.
Steve had promised to play the part though, and he did...but it was really starting to wear him out.
Still...Steve figured that he would make the slightest bit of an effort on Eddie's school work. For all the glory days of high school that Steve had...he was getting pretty sick of Hawkins High. At the very least, he could help Eddie get out of here. And at the most, if he was stuck in Eddie's body forever...well, he didn't want to be a 50-year old high school senior.
Jeff and the guys had mocked Eddie's speech about flipping Higgins off during graduation...and damn if Steve wasn't going to make that happen, come hell or high water.
The younger boys finally took their seats at the table, Dustin practically bursting with frantic energy, as usual, and Mike extra glum.
"What's got you down Wheeler?" Steve asked, throwing a pretzel at Mike's head. "I know it's only Monday but..."
"Someone's keeping my birthday present a secret," Mike groused and Dustin rolled his eyes.
"Here we go. He's been complaining about it all day," he explained. "Lucas and I literally can't have a minute alone to discuss it."
"You know I hate secrets."
"And he tried to bribe Will."
The two of them squabbled back and forth and Steve grinned fondly.
He might've loathed the homework but he was glad he got to see the kids more. More still, he was...almost grateful that Eddie had been there to guide them through the minefield of the first few months of freshman year, since he couldn't.
"Alright, that's it. Shut up!" Steve finally shouted. "You're just gonna have to have a little patience, Wheeler. Just cuz your mommy still says you're special, doesn't mean everyone else is gonna let you walk all over them."
The guys all snickered and made quiet jabs and kissy noises at him, calling him Mama's Boy and the like, as Mike turned red.
"Shut up I don't--hey, how did you know about that?" he narrowed his eyes. Steve's eyebrows jumped in challenge and Mike backed down with a sigh. "Whatever. Fuck you guys...anyway, Eddie, my sister wants to talk to you," he announced in a bored tone.
Now that piqued Steve's interest; he sat up straight and glanced around the cafeteria for her.
As though he didn't know exactly where she and Jonathan Byers sat.
He felt his heart speed up when he met her eyes and she waved him over.
Steve had done his best over the last year-and-a-half to get over Nancy. He'd gone to prom solo, asked new girls out left and right...shit he'd even tried to get her back once or twice. Or at least get her to dump Jonathan. He wasn't entirely proud of it but...Robin had really been the one to set him straight.
He'd faced a lot of bitter realizations but he thought he'd been through the thick of it. Seeing Nancy in passing now and again at school though...well it wasn't doing anything to help that.
And now Nancy wanted to talk to Eddie? Why? They didn't have any classes together--she had practically all Advanced Placement classes and Eddie obviously didn't. Aside from his association with Mike, Nancy steered clear of Eddie.
As Steve got to his feet--ignoring Dustin's cry of "hey can you meet me in the library after school"--a laughable thought struck Steve.
First you had confessed your crush on Eddie. What if Nancy was next in line?
He faltered in his step as he made his way across the cafeteria.
Maybe it wasn't so laughable after all.
Since you had made that little confession to "Eddie," Steve had gotten half-the-idea in his head that...well Eddie wasn't that bad of a guy, what if he could find Eddie a girlfriend or something? He'd tried to ask out a few of the cheerleaders who had approached him about dealing at a party but was promptly laughed at.
And he wasn't gonna even bring up that one girl who was lingering in the theater department last Friday after school, as he went to set up for Hellfire with the kids. He was lucky she didn't just die of fright as he said hi.
What if the answer was Nancy all along?
It almost made him feel a little sick.
Except...
She liked...weird guys like Jonathan...and Eddie was certainly a weird kind of guy. And one of the things Nancy had liked about Steve had been his cool personality. Sure Eddie was sort of a loser...but she was popular now thanks to Steve...what if she liked the cool, bad boy and was getting bored of Jonathan.
As he continued on his journey he mentally calculated the distance between Will and Nancy. Their table was pretty packed--filled with their friends from Newspaper--and there was more distance between them than there had been between him and Nancy right before they broke up.
"Hey, uh, Byers, Wheeler," he greeted awkwardly and crossed his arms over his chest and devoted his attention to Nancy. "You wanted to talk?"
"Yeah can we..." she got to her feet and motioned toward the door.
Steve's heart pounded in his ears as he followed.
"Listen, Miss O'Donnell was a little worried about your grade and she asked if I could maybe...tutor you," Nancy explained, then paused pensively. "Actually, I asked her for a letter of recommendation for one of my applications and she said she would if I tutored you ahead of the midterm. Sorry. I-I do think she's really concerned about your progress though."
"I think the more accurate statement is that she doesn't wanna see my ugly mug in her class again next year," he joked and she gave him a tight-lipped, sympathetic smile.
"I didn't want to agree if you weren't open to it," Nancy sighed. "But I really need that letter. You'd...you'd really be my hero if you did this."
Steve stared at her for a moment, his thoughts racing at all the possibilities.
It didn't really sound like she was tempted to leave Jonathan in the first place but...that didn't mean he couldn't turn on the old Harrington charm. She had fallen for it once...maybe she enjoyed the charm just in a different package. And yeah, he had you waiting for him if he ever made it back to his body. But...if he didn't...
"Listen, I want out of here as much as the next person," Steve finally replied. "So, uh, I'm game if you are."
"Great!" Nancy placed a hand on his shoulder excitedly and Steve could practically feel the warmth of it despite the layers of denim and leather. "Uh...I have some free time after school today?"
Steve vaguely remembered Dustin wanting to meet him...he was sure it had something to do with the spell and he certainly didn't want Nancy to find out about that.
"I, uh, have a Hellfire thing," he lied. "How about Wednesday? I always study better with a few snacks. We can meet at Benny's? 5 o'clock?"
Nancy nodded and confirmed the time and place. She placed her hand on his shoulder again, then went back into the cafeteria.
It took a second, but Steve suddenly felt like all the wind was knocked out of him.
"Eddie" had a study date with Nancy on Wednesday.
He had a date with Nancy.
Eddie was halfway through his shift before anything exciting happened.
Sorry, halfway through Steve's shift.
He really wasn't trying to be bitter but...
Eddie had spiraled for a few days after the unfortunate mishap while he was trying to...relieve himself. Sure, it started with "Steve's" relationship with you, but it was almost like Pandora's box; once the box was opened, everything flooded out. He couldn't sleep without thinking of it, and every waking moment, he was consumed by the blaring differences in their lives.
He wasn't himself and it was driving him crazy. Making him sick.
The smell of the laundry detergent Mary Harrington used, the taste of the tap water in their hose, the softness of Steve's bed.
He'd tried to get comfortable in someone else's skin but the truth was that he wasn't going to fit in it, even if he wanted to.
However, in order to get back to his own life, he needed to keep playing the part of King Steve Harrington, keep stuffing himself into a place that didn't fit. Ignore the stifling tightness, the bulges, and the stretching at the seams of his very being.
That didn't mean he had to give up everything that made him Eddie.
He'd had a day off last Tuesday, and he'd just...spent it trying to reconnect with himself.
He'd stopped by Rick's for weed--and also to check on him, even though Rick wouldn't realize he was Eddie--drove up to Fort Wayne to get high and walk through the conservatory, buy some concert tees at the second hand shop.
By the time he arrived at the Hideout for Corroded Coffin's gig, he felt almost whole. And then he had one of the best performances of his life.
Only to realize that he couldn’t fully enjoy it.
Which led him to skip out on Benny’s with the guys after the set, because as much as he wanted to see you, he knew he couldn’t stand to witness the way you would be indifferent to “Eddie” only to dote on “Steve.”
This was so fucked up. He didn’t know how much longer he could take it.
It was as he had that very thought that his beloved van pulled up right outside the store and “Eddie” and the kids piled out, looking frantic and excited.
Dustin caught Eddie’s attention and quickly waved to get him to come outside.
“I thought you were the babysitter Harrington,” Keith sniffed judgmentally from the front of the shop where he was stocking a display. “What’s Munson doing here with your kids?”
“He got custody in the divorce,” Eddie snarled and vaulted over the counter. “I’m taking my lunch.”
“Wh-hey?!” Keith stuttered as Eddie strutted out the door purposefully. “You forgot to clock out!”
Steve and the kids were all talking over one another excitedly by the time he reached the group.
“They wouldn’t tell me shit until we got here,” Steve grinned. “But apparently they figured out how to fix this.”
“What?!” Eddie’s eyes went wide, the prospect of being back in his own body too monumental to not be excited. “That’s great!”
“We’ve translated the passage!” Dustin announced.
“We?” Lucas asked skeptically.
“Lucas translated the passage,” Dustin amended.
Before Eddie knew it, he and Steve were sitting in the back of the van as Dustin, Lucas, and Will went back and forth over their findings.
He felt like he was in an episode of Columbo for a minute. The kids being detectives who solved a great mystery and were reliving their investigation step-by-step. Lucas did most of the Latin translation, but part of it fell on Will’s shoulders. It wasn’t your run-of-the-mill Latin they learned in class but some obscure dialect.
“Which, uh, I coincidentally have a book about because I have actually been coming up with that one-off campaign for Mike’s birthday,” Will confessed and reached up to scratch the back of his neck as he turned red. The other boys whooped and patted him on the back and Eddie couldn’t help but feel proud of him too.
Eddie always said these kids were the future of Hellfire, but truly he couldn't see them having a better DM than Will Byers.
"Anyway," Dustin returned to the topic at hand. "This is what we ended up with." He pulled a crumpled up piece of notebook paper from its place within his backpack and handed it to Eddie.
The page was covered in crossed out words and different scribbles in each of the boys' incredibly distinct handwriting.
"Jeez, you couldn't have at least rewritten it on a fresh piece of paper?" Steve asked critically. Dustin simply rolled his eyes and grumbled something along the lines of "next time you're cursed, you're on your own" as Eddie and Steve leaned together to read the translation.
A journey soon begins,
its prize reflected in another's eyes.
If what you see is what you lack,
then selfless love will change you back.
Eddie felt his throat tighten as the guilt washed over him.
Sure, he had accepted that the fault lay entirely with him--he already vowed not to use any occult books for future campaigns again--but seeing it there on paper just solidified it.
A prize reflected in another's eyes. You. But you weren't some prize to be won. Sure he...he wanted you to be his but you weren't some object. And to think of you that way...well...he knew enough about magic to know that it didn't happen by accident. He had to believe that you were a prize, at least a little bit, to make something like this happen.
He rubbed a hand over his eyes wearily.
This wasn't what he wanted at all.
"Alright, so what does it mean?" Steve questioned.
"It means you two are jealous of each other," Lucas explained.
Both Steve and Eddie stiffened.
"What?" they exclaimed in tandem. They looked at each other and Eddie laughed while Steve simply looked horrified.
"What do you mean, jealous of each other?" Eddie scoffed.
"Oh, come on Munson," Steve rolled his eyes. "Of course you're jealous of me, this entire predicament we're in is because of you and because--."
"No, no," Eddie held out a hand to stop him from continuing. "Shut up. I'm jealous, alright? Jealous that you seem to get everything handed to you. Anything you want? It's yours. Is that what you wanna hear Stevie?
"But," Eddie paused and narrowed his eyes. "Why are you jealous of me?"
"W-what?" Steve coughed awkwardly. "I'm not--"
"Why did you say that Sinclair?" Eddie jumped to his feet and pointed at Lucas. "Why did you say that we were jealous of each other?"
"Uhhh..." Lucas squirmed a little under the intense scrutiny of the older boys. "W-well...it's about the way the sentences were structured. I'm not...I'm not an expert or anything but it's referring to you in plural. If what you, vōs, seek is what you lack. Not you, tu."
Eddie then turned back to Steve and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Well?" Eddie asked expectantly.
Steve was still for a moment before he began fidgeting. He fumbled over his words--a bunch of well-you-sees and you-don't-understands--as he pinched the bridge of his nose and ran a hand through his hair. Eddie watched, almost sympathetically knowing how hard it was for him getting used to Steve's unfamiliar body, as Steve faltered with his longer mane.
"It's...I...it doesn't matter!" Steve finally shouted. He jumped to his feet and put his hands on his hips; he began pacing back and forth, one arm occasionally flailing as he gesticulated. "It doesn't matter why I'm jealous of Eddie? So what? We need to figure out how we can fix this.
"Selfless love? For what? For each other?" Steve blew a raspberry childishly. "Fat fucking chance. There has to be another way. I don't care what we need to do. I just want to change back."
"Change back from what?" a light, raspy voice sounded from over their shoulders.
The entire group stiffened and turned toward the voice and, lo and behold, there stood Robin. Shuffling her feet back and forth restlessly, frozen in place as she tugged her family video vest from her backpack. The moment everyone's eyes were on her, she grinned bashfully and waved at them all.
"Well, shit," Steve cursed in the most Eddie-like fashion.
If it had been up to Steve, Robin would never have found out about the whole...switching bodies...curse...spell...thing...
But when did something he wanted ever be taken into account by the universe, huh?
As soon as the group had realized Robin was there, all of the deflection and anger drained from Steve's body. He felt guilty for another one of his friends getting dragged into this mess. Because as much as he was happy to let Eddie take the fall, the fact of the matter was that Steve was just as jealous of Eddie.
As much as Eddie had admitted to being of him.
Steve had wanted to give her an explanation right then and there, and he would have if Keith hadn't chosen that moment to be his usual effervescent self.
"I'm closing the arcade tonight," he opened the door and glared across the parking lot at "Steve" and Robin. "So you need to clock in Buckley, and if your friends are still here by the time I take my break later, your hours are getting cut."
If there was one thing Steve had to choose that he didn't miss about his own life, it would be his boss.
So Steve brought the kids home and then returned to the Family Video parking lot to endure panic-inducing silence as he waited for Eddie and Robin to close the store. He could have listened to one of Eddie's endless tapes or smoked--Eddie's body was constantly craving one thing or another: cigarettes, sugary or salty snacks--to kill the time. He simply couldn't bring himself to do it.
It was a literal out-of-body experience. He watched himself and Robin talk and laugh as they went back and forth, helping customers and cleaning up once the store was empty. He knew his friend, knew that she was stronger and smarter than other people gave her credit for.
But this? This made him feel dizzy sometimes if he thought about it too hard.
He hoped they wouldn't get too far, so he could at least...have a decent conversation with her for the first time in a few weeks. Short of seeing her in passing at school...well...he hadn't gone this long without talking to Robin since they became friends.
And he really needed his best friend right now.
Eventually the lights in the businesses of the strip mall began to click off, one by one, and Steve practically held his breath until Family Video's lights finally shut and Eddie and Robin exited the building.
Eddie slapped a hand on Robin's shoulder and said something that made her roll her eyes before he got into Steve's car and drove away.
Robin made a beeline for the van and silently hopped into the passenger's side. Steve's hands--Eddie's hands--gripped the steering wheel tightly enough that he could feel the rings cutting into the creases of his fingers.
The atmosphere in the van was heavy as he sat under Robin’s scrutinizing gaze.
"I knew something was up," Robin finally announced as she slammed the door closed. Steve looked at her as though she had grown a second head.
"What do you mean ‘you knew?’” Steve asked incredulously.
She sighed and began counting on her fingers.
“You’ve been a real grouch when you’ve picked me up from class lately and I know you’re a morning person. Which sucks, by the way. You asked if I wanted to skip home room and get McDonald’s breakfast with you, you hate McMuffins—”
She went on and on, and Steve melted. Yeah, he could admit they had their squabbles and they didn't always see eye to eye. But at the end of the day, no one really understood them like they did each other.
And it felt really good to be understood as Steve Harrington right now.
"--and then you're always complaining when your mom doesn't cut the crusts off your sandwiches and lately you've just been eating them. Also I mentioned something about Vickie the other day and you just ignored it, so I figured that you were just annoyed with me."
She heaved a little bit at the end, having said the last bit in one go without stopping for air. Steve reached across the console and flicked her ear, causing her to slap at his hand.
"Ow, butthead! What was that for?" she exclaimed.
"Are you fucking kidding me Rob?" Steve burst out laughing and Robin chuckled along with him. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"How was I supposed to know you switched bodies?" she slouched into her seat. "Here I was thinking that you just didn't wanna be friends with me anymore. Which, you have to admit, is a more likely explanation."
Steve was about to protest but he stopped mid-word and frowned.
"You know what? You're right."
"I know," she grinned smugly. "Now what have you been up to and how much help do you need with this whole 'switching back' thing? Because Eddie isn't that great at being Steve, which means you must really suck at being Eddie."
They went back and forth as Steve put the van into drive and regaled Robin with stories and mishaps in the short time he'd spent as Eddie Munson, and she laughed at his stupidity.
After he left Family Video, Eddie found himself driving aimlessly through the streets of Hawkins. He thought a weight would have lifted off his shoulders after he explained everything to Robin, but everything was...almost a little worse now.
She'd had questions, like any normal person would. Actually, a normal person would have just had them committed. Robin was special though; her own brand of freak. And she was quick to adapt.
Eventually though...the topic turned to you.
When was Eddie gonna tell you what happened? Did you already know? You deserved to know before you fell too hard for Steve; otherwise, you'd be heartbroken if you ever found out that he was actually Eddie.
Of course, that only fed into all of Eddie's insecurities and self-hatred. All of the doubts he had spent days trying to stuff into the furthest corner of his mind returned with a vengeance.
You wouldn't feel the same thing about him if he was actually Eddie Munson.
Robin didn't know exactly what her words had done to him; she was fully oblivious to his real feelings for you. So he'd done his best to keep those thoughts at bay, and resolved to treat himself to a drive around with the windows rolled down and headband to Metallica as he smoked.
But then Robin opened her big mouth as they locked up for the night and it sent him into another spiral.
"You know...with a little more time, I would have probably figured it out," she chuckled. "You're not as good at being Steve as you think."
At first he wondered if that meant you might figure it out with a little more time. You were sharp, especially when it came to other people; what if one day he did something so inexplicably Eddie that you simply refused to believe he was Steve anymore. Sure, you probably wouldn't be able to guess that he actually was Eddie but...he wouldn't be the Steve you liked anymore.
If he did tell you the truth, would you break up with him? Would you hate him? He'd gotten close many times...but it was just so...ridiculous.
But then Eddie realized that he had been banking on the fact that he was doing all sorts of lovely things with you, had such a deep connection with you--he thought so, at least--and that Steve himself could never live up to it if they switched back.
What if he had you wrong all along? And it wasn't the deep connection that you both built? But just...the fact that he was Steve? You really hadn't had many .boyfriends during school, when you hung around with Mickey's sister. Or any, actually. What if you had a crush on Steve all that time and now...
Eddie felt sick.
Sicker than he was the other night. Sicker than he felt after a bad high. All he wanted was to go back home; not the empty Harrington house, but home. Back to the trailer and his stupid bed and to Wayne, who would give him a stiff hug once he saw Eddie was feeling so down.
But he couldn't.
So he went to the place that felt the next closest to home as he could get right now.
To Benny's.
Benny's had always felt like home to him. When his mom was still alive, waiting tables. She'd pick him up from school and sometimes bring him to work with her. He'd sit at a table in the very, very corner scribbling in his notebook or reading; she'd always scold him to do his homework but Benny would bring him a milkshake and tell Eddie that if he never finished school Eddie didn't need to either.
And to you.
You'd become more home than he ever realized before. Faced with the thought of losing you, he knew he would get over the pain if he absolutely had to. He could move on. But something would always be missing. If none of this had ever happened, the home that you were to him would have stayed cherry pie slices on Tuesday nights and the scribbles in his old notebooks.
But now he knew the taste of your kiss and the weight of your hand in his. He couldn't pretend anymore. He had to know.
Eddie didn't hesitate as he pulled into the gravel parking lot. He was out of the car and headed into the diner as soon as the keys were out of the ignition.
It was almost closing time, so the diner was pretty quiet save for a family finishing up a late supper and Chief Hopper who sat at the counter with a slice of apple pie, chatting with Benny through the serving hatch. You were hunched at a table--the very same table his mom would sit him at--rolling silverware; your eyes darted around the diner every so often to make sure your customers were taken care of, and they immediately sparkled when they landed on him.
The motivation he had to make it into the diner was immediately replaced by those stupid nerves.
"Hey honey," Eddie greeted nervously once you crossed the diner and stood before him. The courage momentarily gone, especially as you made it to the door to greet him. "Uh...table for one?"
"We're about to close," you frowned and glanced over your shoulder. "Uh, but I can ask Benny if--"
"Wait, no," Eddie stopped you before you could go anywhere. "I was just kidding. I really wanted...to see you. I missed you."
"Oh! I missed you too," you grabbed his hand in yours and squeezed. "It looks like you came here straight from work. Everything ok Steve?
His ears started ringing; there it was again.
Steve, Steve, Steve.
The name he had gotten so used to and so sick of. The person he had gotten so sick of being.
"What do you like about me?" he sought suddenly, desperately. "Like...really, why did you agree to go out with me when you could have...dated any other guy?"
Your eyes went wide and you began squirming nervously. He couldn't quite place it but there was something there...something that made him even more nervous.
"Uh, hey Ben, can I take a quick 5?" you asked over your shoulder and Benny poked his head through the window. He narrowed his eyes at "Steve" momentarily but nodded.
"No funny business kid," Benny warned. "She's the best I've got."
You pulled Eddie out the door and to the side of the building, where you took your breaks. Where he had danced with you last week.
"So?" he began impatiently. "Why do you like me?"
"Where is this coming from?" you questioned quickly. "Did...I don't know...did Eddie say something to you?"
"Eddie?" Had you...told him something? Something that would upset "Steve?" What would you tell him? And why hadn't Steve mentioned anything about you talking to him.
Eddie tried to rationalize it. You saw him as a friend, and Steve knew you thought Eddie was a friend. Steve still saw you as his own girlfriend. Maybe you were trying to...Maybe you...Maybe he...
Fuck it was really confusing if he really thought about it. He just needed a straight fucking answer. Otherwise he was gonna go crazy.
"No," Eddie shook his head. He would have to go out on a limb here. "No Eddie didn't say anything but I...I don't know. We've been going out for a little while I guess...even when I first asked you out, I never asked why you said yes. And I just...don't know why you would even want to go out with me."
Your eyes got sad, and took a breath, almost relieved, as your fidgeting stopped.
"I mean, I guess...I've had crushes and stuff before," you began.
Crushes? Oh god, what if you were about to confess you had a crush on Steve. Steve...well he understood, Steve was handsome...not his type...it would hurt but he understood.
"N-no one ever...ever really wanted to ask me out for more than...than a party or something," you chuckled. "I mean they did but...high school right? Everyone kind of sucked. You kinda sucked too Steve.
"And I really wasn't...ok it's funny because I was actually planning to break things off with you." You chuckled and Eddie perked up a little. "You were kind of...self centered, and you...you kept...I don't know. I know you had that breakup with Nancy, so I didn't want to be mean, but you just kept bringing her up!
"But then you...you really surprised me. I told you...you're not...not anything I expected. You don't even seem like you were when you first asked me out. You're...caring and you listen. You're funny, and you like classic horror movies? And then you--"
You went on and on, eyes getting brighter with each word. Eddie felt lighter. Everything you said that you liked about him, well they were all about Eddie. Not Steve.
He was...he was getting in his head for nothing. That's all it was. It was just...nerves and...and...he had nothing to worry about. He could have you, when all was said and done. Hell, he could probably tell you right now once you were finished; tell you the truth about the spell, tell you that he was Eddie, tell you that he...liked you and that you were the thing that kept him going all this time.
You'd probably be...confused. But you knew him. You knew Eddie. It would all make sense in the end. And hopefully, you wouldn't turn him away.
In that moment, however, seeing that pride and confidence take over you as you listed all the reasons you liked him--the way you were so sure of your feelings--made Eddie's own confidence falter. He wasn't an idiot, he knew that telling the truth felt freeing. To you, you were just confessing how much you liked "Steve," and while all of the things you just said made him...so incredibly happy...he couldn't help but wonder...
What if you were angry that he kept this secret from you? What if you...hated him for lying?
Robin said it herself, you deserved to know the truth, before you fell too hard. He should have told you immediately. He shouldn't have acted in his own interest. You were...you deserved so much better.
The doubt you just helped brush away began festering inside of him again.
You deserved to know the truth, but he couldn't hurt you more now. And as much as he wanted you to...to love him, to love Eddie Munson he knew that you would feel too betrayed to ever trust him again if he told you.
"--and it kind of helps that you're really cute too." You finally finished with the brightest, most tender smile he ever saw. "Sorry I guess that's just the long winded way of me saying...I really like you Steve."
And as Eddie ignored the twist in his gut at Steve's name--as he kissed you--he decided that he simply couldn't tell you the truth. Ever.
Eddie felt bad just leaving after he barged into Benny's like that, and to be completely honest, even though the guilt was eating at him he didn't want to leave your side. He convinced you to go out with him for a late night snack and then he followed you home where he gave you another sweet kiss on your front porch.
"You're spoiling me," you giggled as you fiddled with your keys.
"You deserve a lot more than I can give you, Honey," he told you truthfully. "So much better than someone like me."
"Impossible."
It was close to midnight when he pulled into the Harrington's driveway, and Eddie cursed when he noticed the two expensive cars parked beside each other and the lights on in the house.
He hadn't had the misfortune of encountering both of Steve's parents at the same time yet. His dad was usually at work and mom usually just...gone, so the few times he did see them...they were just on their own and he could dodge any questions or conversations.
"Whatever you do, just don't talk to them," Steve had told him. And Eddie had kept up that end of the deal so far. He couldn't be so sure now. He would just have to try his best to get up the stairs and into bed before they noticed their "son" was home.
Eddie turned the key in the lock as quietly as he could, entered the house and closed the door behind him without more than a click. He avoided dropping his keys in the little dish on the table in the hall--
There was chatter coming from the living room, quiet laughter. That was odd. From what Steve made it sound like, his parents always fought.
--but he couldn't avoid running into the table itself. The table wobbled and the other keys in the dish clattered and caused a commotion. The laughter stopped abruptly.
"Steven?" Mary's voice sounded frantic and alarmed.
Shit.
"Yeah mom, it's me." Eddie winced and tried to steady the table.
"I didn't think you'd be home tonight, it's already so late." She was immediately in the hall, eyes darting around, arms crossed over her chest. Her makeup was smeared and hair disheveled. Even her clothes looked in disarray.
Gross. Eddie didn't want to think about the Harringtons fucking on the couch he took a nap on the other day.
"Worked late," Eddie answered dismissively, wanting desperately to get out of this situation. "Just like dad does."
Eddie tried to take a step around her--if they knew he was home, he might as well grab some water or a pop before he went up to bed. Maybe a beer if he had to think of Steve's parents like that. Mary immediately stepped in front of him and blocked his way.
"I was worried," she stated blankly, eyes dead on him now.
"Clearly not, if you thought I wasn't coming home," Eddie snarked, annoyed now that she was making this difficult for him. Here was the bitchy PTA mom Mary Harrington he knew and loved. "I just want to get a snack and go to bed."
"It's late, just go to bed Steven."
"No, I--"
"Now is that really any way to talk to your mother?" a deep voice sounded from behind Mary.
Eddie rolled his eyes, now ready for a fight with Big Papa Harrington--
The thing about the Harringtons was that they looked like something out of a Sears Catalog. Tom was tall with salt-and-pepper hair that coiffed perfectly on his head, bright blue eyes, and a firm, trustworthy voice that always meant business. Mary was a petite brunette with warm hazel eyes, impeccable taste in clothing, and a sweet voice that went shrill when she was upset. And Steve was a good mix of the two; the perfect poster boy for their coveted suburban life.
--only to freeze in surprise when an older man with blond hair stepped out of the living room. His necktie was in his hand, lipstick was smeared across his mouth, and he was shrugging on his suit jacket. The flag pin on his lapel glinted in the hall light, like the unspoken warning in his eyes.
Eddie's mind raced as he tried to make sense of it all.
Steve asked him not to talk to either of his parents very much, to keep their interactions with him short. How he got bitter at even the mention of his parents. The lunches, the calendar, the laundry. The allowance money that she gave him, even though practically everyone knew Steve had been cut off from his dad's wallet. Eddie thought that the allowance money was the secret they were keeping from Tom.
"You can't be mad at me forever, Steve," she had told him the other day.
"It's good to see you again, Steven," he smiled his election-winning smile and put a protective hand on Mary's shoulder. "We were just discussing how the historical society is contributing to the--"
"Larry was just leaving," Mary announced and glared up at Mayor Kline. The Mayor nodded and patted his hand on her shoulder once again before he slunk between them and out the door, Eddie's eyes following him until he was gone.
For all the gruff manner about him, Eddie's uncle Wayne was a bit of a gossip monger. Always had been. He got most of his gossip from the ladies around the trailer park that would offer a cup of coffee in exchange for some handyman repair work that they couldn't do themselves. So Eddie had become quite adept in Hawkins gossip. Rumor around town was that Tom was the one cheating. It was why Mary had the nicest car and the most expensive jewelry. It was why she went on all of his business trips and was treated to lavish weekend getaways.
No one expected that...
"You're cheating on dad," Eddie practically spat at Mary. She heaved a heavy, tired sigh and rolled her eyes a little bit.
"Yes Steven," she agreed. "We've been through this all before. I'm ruining the family, your father is going to be heartbroken, but I don't think I see him here." She waved her arms out and looked around.
"It's past midnight and he's still at the office crunching the numbers," Mary continued. "There are things you just don't understand and you won't until you're grown up and married. But seeing how late you're coming home. Working late. Just like dad.
"So I don't want to hear it from you. I already made you a deal. You got your allowance back. I get to keep my secrets."
She waved her hands dismissively then turned back into the living room, leaving Eddie behind in the hall to process the entire conversation.
He went through the motions as he trudged up the stairs and got ready for bed. As he went to brush his teeth...he stared at his reflection. At Steve's reflection. Stared into tired eyes with purple circles underneath them and a gauntness that hadn't been there earlier.
On top of all the other shit he was feeling...this especially was heavy, and sickening.
Not because Eddie was fond of Mary or Tom or douchebag Mayor Kline.
Not because he was under some illusion that marriages were supposed to be perfect and families were happy.
Not even at his own partial triumph that the perfect Harringtons were truly about as far from perfect as one could get.
But at the realization Steve had to live with the truth that could break up his family.
Steve's visit had you practically floating through the next few days. It was unexpected and so...perfect.
You had gone a few days without seeing him. Not that...you were trying to be clingy or anything. But for the past two weeks he had been consistent in his attention and affection for you...and for it to suddenly stop the day after you tore up your diary and resolved to get over Eddie?
After you told Eddie about your crush in the first place?
It had you in a panic. And, of course, instead of try to communicate and reach out at all, you internalized it and catastrophized.
What if Eddie told Steve? What if Steve hated you now? What if that's why he hadn't called? Or come in with the rest of the guys after their next show?
You thought it all came crashing down when Steve had stopped by and asked you why you went out with him. You thought he was trying to get the truth out of you and for a moment...it felt like the worst thing in the world.
Losing Steve felt like the worst thing that could ever happen to you.
But when he asked again, seeming so lost and insecure. God, it just cut you, because...how could he not see how great he was? Why did he doubt that you liked him?
You relived it after you got home that night. Went over every moment, tried to make sense of it all. Tried to pinpoint anything you had done. And really the only thing you could think of was telling Eddie about your crush.
But...the good definitely outweighed the bad. Your little self-pity and worry over Steve's abandonment of you had vanished and...even now, you were still giggling over him. Over the happiness you felt that you liked him so much, that he liked you back. Liked you enough to worry that you might not like him.
You had to admit that it all felt silly. All of the back-and-forthing, all the doubt. But silliness was good, and it just made the days pass by swiftly. Benny had kept grumbling good-naturedly at your bright smile. He teased you and asked if you needed a quick 5 minute break later and if Steve would be waiting outside for you after close.
Hell, even Lynn's bitterness wouldn't ruin your good mood.
"Alright, Sunshine," she groused at the start of the early dinner rush, just as you came back from your break. "Better hike up that skirt a few inches. Your boyfriend's here, so you gotta look extra cute if you want a good tip. God knows your serving isn't good enough for it."
You felt yourself getting hot from embarrassment; not for Lynn's rude comments but because she said boyfriend, the fact that he was so recognizable now.
God, if Steve was here, Benny would never let you hear the end of it. But how did she know? Steve had work on Wednesdays...
You subconsciously touched your hair and adjusted your uniform before stepping into the dining room. Your eyes swept over the tables, looking for his familiar fluffy head of hair...only to come across another incredibly familiar head.
Your boyfriend. Lynn thought Eddie was your boyfriend.
Eddie's long, curly mane took flight as his head was thrown back, his laughter lost over the din of chattering customers. For a second you assumed he would be there with Jeff or Gareth--hell, he might even be there with Mickey catching up--until you saw the ultra-styled brunette perm that bounced with every motion.
In that moment, you either turned to stone, or you fell into a deep, dark abyss. It was hard to tell. It could have been both. Or neither. But something happened to you and you ceased to exist as you did just seconds before. Benny's little bell in the service hatch sounded flat and distant. The grumpy old man demanding coffee simply melted into the floor. Lynn became a blur in your peripheral vision and phased between tables like a phantom.
And Eddie and Nancy remained in perfect, painful focus.
Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler.
The bell in the window dinged twice and Benny shouted something to Lynn, effectively breaking you from your trance. You wiped your now-clammy hands on your apron and quickly approached the table.
"Hey, how's it going today? Can I get you guys something to drink?" You forced a polite smile onto your face and glanced between them.
This was the closest you'd been to Nancy...possibly ever; she was a year younger than you and aside from your interactions with Steve now, you really never had any business hanging near him when you were still at Hawkins High. She was really pretty. Her blue eyes sparkled, her smile was cute, and her voice was sweet and soft as she asked for coffee, please. Some dark part of you that made you hate yourself though that she was everything you weren't, and you couldn't blame it because Eddie was looking at her like she hung the stars.
"Eddie, are you gonna order?" Nancy's eyebrows jumped expectantly. "It's busy, I'm sure she has other people to help."
"Oh he's a regular he gets--" you started to defend him but Eddie cut you off.
"Just ice water." He didn't even look at you. "Thanks honey."
Your throat got tight and you shot them both a tight smile with a quick "be right back."
How did she do it? How was she...how did she get everyone? She had a boyfriend right? Unless they broke up. But still...she had Steve hung up on her for God-knows-how-long, and now Eddie was like a lovesick puppy.
Your mind raced as you retreated back to the kitchen and went through the motions of your job. Lynn was terrible about starting a fresh pot and you were relieved that you'd have an extra minute of respite to think before you did something stupid like spill hot coffee in Eddie's lap.
What were they doing here? Was this a date? You thought...you saw textbooks on the table. Were they just doing homework or...did they have class together? You'd offered a study session with Eddie once. Not a date. And it was in the library and not Benny's. Fuck. Was it a date? Fuck. And he never looked at anyone like that, let alone you.
Your movements were jerky and full of emotion. Coffee grounds spattered as you scooped them into the brewer, you slammed Eddie's water glass onto the counter, and by the time you were halfway bent inside the ice maker, taking out your frustrations on frozen water, Benny had enough.
"You need a different weapon to stab that ice kid?" Benny chuckled. You stood straight and faced him with, what you were sure was, a pathetic expression.
"I'm sorry Ben I--"
"You just came back from break," he stated matter-of-factly and crossed his arms over his chest. "What's got you all worked up already? Someone out there harassing you? Need me to kick 'em out?"
"I mean, unless you wanna fire me," you replied tiredly, knowing you were more frustrated with yourself than with Eddie or Nancy.
"Ah," he nodded sagely. "I got it. Yeah, I go 8 rounds with myself sometimes too. Wanna talk?"
Did you want to talk to your boss about silly boy trouble? Trouble that you were trying to work through yourself? Because you were supposed to be getting over your crush on Eddie. You were with Steve...and you just needed to remind yourself of that.
Every time you walked out there and saw them talking. If their heads got too close as he whispered something to her over their homework. On the off chance you looked outside and saw them kissing in the parking lot after they left.
You thought...distance from Eddie would work. But you were friends with practically the same people and he always came into Benny's.
Maybe the answer wasn't trying to push Eddie away? Maybe it was just to get closer to Steve?
You ignored the roiling in your stomach and sighed. Either way this wasn't something Benny could help you with.
"Thanks Ben," you responded weakly. "But it's just...I think I have to work it out myself."
Before Eddie knew it, it was Friday and time for Hellfire.
It was weird now, having Robin know the truth about him and Steve. She was having a hard time adjusting to calling him Steve, knowing he was Eddie. Despite the fact that she had been calling him Steve the whole time.
"I'm just going to call you both Dingus," she reasoned. "That way there's no chance of messing it up."
She actually...had been pretty handy the past few days, trying to find the way for the two of them to switch back. She had checked out a bunch of books from the Hawkins Public Library and brought them to Family Video for them to scour through, had apparently taken to sitting with the Hellfire Club at lunch to prevent Steve from making a fool of himself--fat chance--and grilled both Steve and Eddie on every aspect of one another's lives that might be relevant to their switch. More importantly, the switch back.
"What is selfless love? Is it supposed to be...you doing a selfless act for one another? Because I saw this one test Steve took for you last week. He got a B! And you know he's purposefully having tutoring sessions for you? Must suck for him; he aced O'Donnell's class last year."
She had even been a listening ear after Eddie had found out about Steve's mom, and didn't know the best way to get around to talking to him about it.
It had to be eating Steve up inside...hell, Eddie didn't even like the Harringtons and he felt guilty for not telling Tom that his wife was ruining their family and hurting their son by bribing him to keep it all a secret.
Fuck. Were...were he and Steve friends now?
Eddie normally would have shivered at the thought but...actually it was kind of wholesome...to think that King Steve would slum it with the freaks.
But the line would be drawn if he ever had to admit that Steve was a nice guy. Even if it was the only thing that he had to do to get back into his own body...yeah wasn't happening. Guess he would be Steve Harrington forever.
He was currently waiting at the side entrance to the High School for Steve and the others to get back from picking up snacks for their session.
He actually managed to piece together a semi-decent looking outfit. The last few gigs at the Hideout and Hellfire meetings, he had shown up in Steve's signature polo-and-jeans look. But after digging in a box labeled "donate" at the back of Steve's closet, Eddie found what he was pretty sure was Steve's halloween costume a few years back.
A black t-shirt and some...dark grey blazer that Eddie spent his lunch break adding safety pins too--more punk rock than metal but it would do. Pop those on with some black jeans that he also zhuzh'd up...aka cut holes in...perfect Hellfire look.
He wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb at least. Maybe he could ask Steve to bring him an extra shirt next week.
Eddie's van swerved into the parking lot and as soon as it stopped, the back doors swung open and Gareth jumped out with a whoop.
"Harrington, are you ready for carnage tonight?" he shouted at "Steve" and hauled a case of Mountain Dew over his head. The rest of the Hellfire club filtered out and greeted Eddie before helping unload their purchases.
Steve finally joined them and clapped Eddie on the back.
"Glad you could make it, Harrington," Steve winked and looked down at Eddie's clothes. "Slumming it again? What are you wearing?"
"I don't know, Munson," Eddie ran his hands down the front of the blazer. "Just something from the back of the closet."
"The safety pins are pretty cool," Dustin commented with a wink as he and Mike headed in.
Once the guys were inside, Steve hissed in Eddie's ear.
"What did you do to my jacket?"
"Dude you need to stop trusting your mom to buy your clothes," Eddie laughed. "I'm gonna go cross-eyed with all of the stripes."
"You're one to talk," Steve rolled his eyes. "It's a wonder your knees aren't permanently frostbitten. All of your jeans have rips in them."
Eddie shook his head. Asshole.
"Heard you're getting help in O'Donnells," Eddie remarked.
"News travels pretty fast," Steve kicked his feet, spraying the guys with gravel. "Which of you idiots blabbed. Gare?"
"Yeah he's been making kissy faces," Dave coughed and cleared his throat. "I mean...yeah he's been getting special tutoring sessions."
Kissy faces?
"From Nancy Wheeler!"
Wheeler?
"Mike doesn't know his ass from his elbow but even he knows you're crushing on his sister," Gareth teased, earning a high five from the others.
"Lay off," Steve preened in front of the others. "We've only had two study dates."
"Two days in a row!" Jeff protested. "That's your girlfriend."
"She's not my girlfriend...yet."
Eddie felt dizzy; what was even happening. Steve was...Steve was dating you, why the hell was he talking about Nancy like...like he was gonna ask her out. Why was he trying to get him to date Nancy?
He grabbed Steve's arm as the other guys headed in.
"Are you...kidding me Harrington?" Eddie hissed. "I don't need a girlfriend, I just need to be back in my body. Jesus H. Christ."
"You don't...listen Eddie, you don't understand," Steve sighed.
"I think I do, you're obsessed with Nancy and you know she isn't gonna get back with you as yourself so you're trying to get her back as me." Eddie punctuated his words by jamming his finger into Steve's chest.
"She likes bad boys," Steve explained with a shrug. Eddie scoffed.
"Jonathan Byers isn't a bad boy. I'm not a bad boy. You're gonna make me look like an even bigger laughing stock than I already am."
"Well it's a good thing that I'm still you then, you get to enjoy life on top," Steve held out his arms. "It's a win-win. I get Nancy, you get not to be an absolute loser."
"Well what about your girlfriend?" Eddie asked. "You asked me to keep her warm. She's a good one. Don't scare her away."
"You can break up with her if that's your problem," Steve said dismissively. Eddie let out a noise of disbelief. "What? Isn't that it? You're tired of going on lame dates? Listen, we're no closer to switching back than we have been. Why can't you just...accept the inevitable."
"So you just...give up?" Eddie asked. "Because...I dunno, it just sounded like you want to be stuck as me for the rest of time as long as you can be delusional about Nancy."
Eddie realized that he was being thebiggest hypocrite right now.
He just didn't care.
Every day he made himself sick with worry that you were going to find out and hate him. Guilted himself over the fact that he had to lie and deceive you. Every day simply got harder, and as much as he reveled in your affections...he knew it wasn't right.
Eddie had gotten them both into this mess because he couldn't build up the courage to own up to his feelings for you...and now Steve was doing the same thing. Who's to say that if Steve--if "Eddie"--had a chance with Nancy, they might never be able to undo this spell at all.
"I'm not giving up, I'm just..." Steve ran a hand over his face. "Wouldn't it be easier this way?"
There was a second of silence as Eddie connected the dots.
Maybe he wasn't the only one to blame here either. They were both jealous of each other. Eddie jealous because Steve was dating you. But Steve was jealous...because Eddie lived a supposed carefree life. Right? Wasn't that what Steve had said? And...and did Eddie not just find out how un-carefree Steve's life was?
"I get it now," Eddie muttered. "It isn't...it isn't just about Nancy. It's all of it."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"If you're me...then you don't need to worry about keeping mommy and daddy's marriage happy," Eddie explained. "You don't need to...work with Keith. You don't have to worry about living up to expectations when there are none."
"You talked to my mom?" Steve narrowed his eyes, his tone full of betrayal. "What the hell man?"
"I didn't but thanks for the warning man," Eddie scoffed. "Walked in on her and the mayor practically hanging off one another. Ah look at you, see? You look sick to your stomach. Don't worry, I didn't tell anyone. But I bet it's felt good the last few weeks, not having to think about whether or not your dad is gonna find out. That your perfect life is gonna be ruined."
"My life isn't perfect!" Steve exclaimed.
"Neither is mine! If you didn't notice, it's as far from perfect as you can get. Maybe you've just been oblivious to it so far. A few weeks is nothing compared to 20 years man.
"What's gonna happen when the state pen calls on my birthday because dear old dad wants to chat. Or..or when you go to Rick's house to restock your supply and he's having a really bad day. You know how many times I've talked him out of just...ending it? It used to be easier when my mom was around but...guess what Steve? She's dead too.
"My life isn't easy," Eddie concluded. "Isn't perfect. So don't act like everything's easier just cuz you want to get in Nancy Wheeler's pants."
"You don't fucking know what you're talking about," Steve rumbled. "Nancy...shit she's the only person who I've ever loved. Who has ever loved me. Maybe my parents did a long time ago when I was still young enough to be my dad's little buddy and my mom's dress up doll. But not anymore. But Nancy? Nancy got me. She understood me like no one else did."
"What about your friends? What about Robin?"
"What other friends do I have besides Robin?" Steve asked. "They're all gone. They left. Even before graduation."
"And that's what you want now? You want Nancy and my friends too? To help fill your lonely little life?"
"My life is lonely? Please. You're playing a make believe game and wannabe rockstar twice a week with a bunch of kids. All your real friends left you behind too. And I might not know what my future holds but at least I have a future Munson," Steve huffed. "If this spell bullshit hadn't have happened, it isn't hard to guess where you would end up. Still living in that trailer park 20 years from now, fixing toilets, and fucking your fist because who would ever wanna be with someone like you? Who could ever love yo--"
Steve couldn't finish that sentence because Eddie's fist was rocketing into his face. The force of the punch made him fall to the ground.
Eddie felt empowered, filled with righteous anger and self hatred.
There was nothing worse than being faced with the hopelessness of his life, the pointlessness of his future...until those facts came from his own mouth.
"You're on your own Harrington," Eddie shouted as he turned on his heel and walked back to the BMW, not stopping for a second to look back, even as Steve called after him. "You wanna fix my life? You wanna be Eddie Munson? Be Eddie Munson. You don't need my help. Good fucking luck."
“Well here we are, Honey,” Steve announced as he pulled up to the curb in front of your house. “End of the Line. Home Sweet Home.”
It was the perfect date. Again.
Let the record show that Steve was the best at planning dates.
Honestly sometimes...it just seemed too good to be true.
There had been the night when he stopped by Benny's right before closing, and you had that chat outside. Even though you had an early class the next morning, he lured you out to the line of fast food places near the highway on an impromptu date and created ungodly mash ups with different sandwiches.
Or Thursday, he asked if you wanted to have a movie night and you suggested your place since Starcourt was always so packed. He had brought a ton of treats and extra supplies to build a blanket fort in your living room. He stole a few kisses when your hands met in the popcorn bowl. And you had gotten caught making out in the fort by your mom.
Then today--a Saturday of all days--he'd surprised you.
You’d walked outside, running late for your shift, only to find him parked at the curb, leaning against his car with a huge grin on his face. Told you that he had begged Benny to give you the day off to take you for a surprise.
"I have the day off from Family Video," he explained. "Figured I could use a little day out. Thought I could convince you to tag along."
As if a Saturday off wasn't surprising enough in and of itself.
It was honestly like something out of a John Hughes movie.
He had driven you into Indianapolis to go to some outdoor flea market. Played whatever music you wanted on the drive there and back. Got you all the roasted pecans and sweet confections from the vendors at the edge of the market had to offer. Made you fall for him more and more as he talked shop, laughed, and bartered for vintage records and cool sunglasses and a handful of pinback buttons.
"'Get Stoned?'" You laughed and picked out one rather large button.
"Like the Rolling Stones."
"I get it," you laughed. "Just didn't think you were into them enough to get a button."
"Oh...they're the Stones," Steve shrugged. "But, uh, figured...Eddie might be into it."
You really tried not to wince at the mention of Eddie’s name. You smiled and nodded but it just had you thinking back to Eddie and Nancy at Benny's. You knew you had to stop thinking about it...especially in comparison with Steve, and it was getting increasingly more difficult when Steve was the one who brought him up in the first place. Hell, when you stopped at a little drive-in outside of Marion for dinner, Steve even ordered, what you recognized as, Eddie's usual from Benny's.
It honestly threw you for a loop and made you feel a little crazy.
Just weeks ago you would have thought…well you wouldn’t have considered them similar at all.
And now…
Now you weren’t so sure.
You had spilled your heart out to Steve the other night, told him all the things that you liked about him. And it wasn't until you got home from work after seeing Eddie and Nancy together that you realized...a lot of the things you liked about Steve were also things you liked about Eddie.
Sure, Eddie and Steve were hanging out more after all, so they had to have something in common. Maybe hanging around each other brought out the best in one another. The glimpse of Steve you got after that third date…that genuine sweetness…was now only amplified by Eddie’s genuine personality.
Then you had Eddie…his seemingly endless confidence was more of a defense mechanism. Behind closed doors or with your heads leant together over homework he was more vulnerable. Sweeter. But now the confidence had almost made way for cockiness and indifference...which you really had never associated with Eddie before.
So the way he smile and looked at Nancy, the softness he freely gave--
The way you always wanted him to look and smile at you. The way that still devastated you not to be on the receiving end of.
—you rarely saw him show that soft side of himself so freely.
Even if Nancy had a boyfriend…well, it was a hurtful sight to witness and you truly hoped Eddie wouldn’t be hurt if she turned him down.
Huh. Eddie pining after Nancy and Steve being…just a sweetheart. A sweetheart you were falling for. It’s almost like they traded places or something.
You pondered the thought for a second and couldn’t help but laugh at how silly it all was.
“What’s got you laughing?” Steve’s voice broke through your fantastical thoughts and you shook your head.
“Nothing,” you dismissed. “I’m just…just happy.”
Steve smiled that million dollar smile of his--bright and sparkling--and tucked his head into his shoulder a little before glancing back at you.
“Really?” He questioned.
“Yeah.”
“Cuz you had a good time?”
“Well yeah, I always have a good time with you.” You shuffled in your seat a little, tugged at the seatbelt and scuffed your feet against the floor mat. “You, uh...you wanna come in?"
"Uh, is your mom home?" He chuckled nervously. "I don't want a repeat of last time."
No. That was mortifying.
"She's actually out with some coworkers. They got some big contract. Some international account blah," you waved your hand dismissively. "Kinda boring but she doesn't get to go out too much. I dunno.
"But uh...if you did want to come in...we could avoid a play by play. If you catch my drift?" You raised your eyebrows seductively and you thought you made the right reference--he was a sports guy after all. But he just looked like a deer in the headlights.
That was just the natural progression of dating right?
You kiss a little or a lot...and then you make out on your couch...and then...so why did he look shocked. You didn't wanna push him...but he was also Steve Harrington. You honestly thought he would have made a move by now.
Some wicked voice in the back of your head piped up.
Maybe the problem wasn't Steve; maybe you were the problem...
"It's ok if you don't want to," you backtracked, suddenly self-conscious. "Because I know you...you probably work tomorrow or something."
"No!" he shouted, the volume of it a little shocking thanks to the close proximity in the car. "Yes that's...no I...we can go in."
You held back a sigh of relief and smiled shakily.
The walk inside was unremarkable, but every second that passed was filled with more anticipation than the one before. Steve teased you for fumbling with your keys, enough that you dropped them, and he gave your butt a little pat. You grabbed him around the middle and waddled him back from your mother's steam-cleaned carpets so he could kick off his shoes, all the while running your hands over his toned chest. You asked him if he wanted something to drink, like a good hostess would, and he simply quirked a brow and said there was only one thing that could quench his thirst.
But before long it was all just a vague blur because he pushed you up against the wall in the front room and eagerly fused his lips to yours.
Steve was always a little noisy, always humming, but his noises became needier the longer you went. His hands gripped your waist and he thumbed the softness there consistently, as though he needed to prove to himself that you were truly safe within his grasp.
He swallowed the giggles that softly escaped you when his fingers found just the right spot.
"Ticklish?" he broke away and pulled just far enough back to grin through those kiss-swollen lips. You whined impatiently in response. "I think I found my lady's weakness...it's ok. Your secret is safe with me."
A voice echoed in your head, soft and sweet. My lady. Gravelly with sleep in the morning before class, accompanied by a bow, as you passed by Hellfire Club on the way to homeroom
No, no, no. Not again. You were here with Steve. Steve. Not Eddie.
"Mmmh, and what about you?" you muttered petulantly, pushing the thought away. He surged forward for another peck but you kept your hand firm on his chest to hold him back. "Isn't it fair I learn your weakness too?"
"I've gotta have some secrets don't I?" He pulled one of your hands away and pressed feather light kisses to each of your fingers, then the back of your hand.
An image was summoned in your mind's eye, the feeling of lips on your hand as you practiced some sort of Shakespearean reenactment for English class.
Eddie needed to get out of your head. Out of your heart.
You batted Steve's hand away, grabbed his face and mashed your lips to his urgently.
There was a build of anticipation; it was frenzied but it didn't feel rushed. Now that you two had a moment alone--truly alone to explore one another without a nosy neighbor or a potentially wandering police officer or a well-intended parent--it was clear that you both wanted this and wanted to savor every minute of it. Memorize every dip, every curve, every plane. Paint the taste of one another on the canvas of each other's tongues.
He tasted like...
Cherry Pie and Cigarettes and Juicy Fruit Gum.
But he didn't chew Juicy fruit. But he did. But he didn't. Steve didn't. Eddie did.
Steve chewed Big Red. He told you so on your first date when you asked for a stick after the bitter taste of coffee lingered in your mouth.
"I only chew Big Red, is that ok?"
But he had chewed gum in the car after you left the diner. He had his pie, he smoked really quick--a habit you vaguely remembered him saying he was quitting--and he had offered you a piece of Juicy Fruit as he turned the key in the ignition.
You compared Eddie and Steve in the car before, chalked it up to them being friends. But now here he was again and it was driving you crazy. You just wanted to fall for Steve in peace. And you were, you really were, but you were also getting sick of Eddie popping up at the most inopportune times.
You pushed Steve away from you and panted heavily.
"You wanna go to my room?" you asked abruptly. Your eyebrows shot upwards expectantly as Steve stared at you with big, dumb eyes and a shocked expression.
"Yes," he nodded eagerly. "Uh, yeah...yes."
Eddie didn’t know how to feel being in your room.
On the one hand…he doubted whether he should really be here. This was everything he had just condemned Steve for. On the other…it really had been the perfect day with you. You quieted the doubt in his mind. All of Steve’s cutting words about…being alone and never knowing love…they didn’t matter when you held his hand and looked him in the eyes and kissed him.
All of the sweet things you said to him the other night flooded his mind and made him feel like he was underwater. Submerged in your love.
If he closed his eyes and imagined the world was perfect, it did feel like love. He could convince himself that you loved him too.
The minute your bedroom door was closed behind him, you had grabbed Eddie and pushed him onto your bed. The plush comforter cushioned his fall and your pillows had all bounced around him and he chuckled.
He craned his neck to get a look around your room—white walls decorated with some posters and cutouts from magazines here and there, a small desk, a bookshelf that was so full it was more book than shelf. He’d learned so much about you the past few weeks, more than he had over the past few years of knowing you, but this…aside from the fact that you had crawled onto his lap and we’re nipping at his neck…this was the most intimate he would ever get to know you. Not your body. But your soul, your mind, your light.
If this was his last glimpse of you he ever got in his life, he would die happily. He didn’t need to pretend things were perfect to acknowledge that he was in love with you. It was a fact of his existence at this point. And he needed to show you.
“H-honey?” He asked softly. “Stop.”
“You don’t like this?” You laved at the point where his jaw met his neck before sucking a bruising kiss there. His nerves were alight at the sensation and blood rushed south.
“Where did you learn to do that? Hmm?” He asked teasingly as his hand gripped your waist. You pulled back and grinned like the cat that got the cream. “Oh? You’ve got secrets? Well I’ve got a secret too.”
Something akin to worry flashed behind your eyes and he reached up to caress the side of your face.
“Don’t worry,” he reassured. “It’s not bad. Let me show you.”
Eddie pulled your mouth back to his and you fell into him, obviously enjoying the soft attentions of his kiss. From there he eased you onto your back, happy to hover over you and press his body into yours. He grinned as you made a needy little noise.
More? He could give you more; he was planning on it. More importantly, you were eager to have him take.
You were soft and pliant against him, malleable, as his mouth traveled from yours, down your neck, and further down still. His hands antecedent of his descent, they prepared you for what was to come, gave you every opportunity to push him away, though you never would. He grasped your wrists and pressed them to the soft mattress above your head, rucked up your shirt so he could attend to your breasts.
Fingers deftly peeled away the cups of your bra and as he suckled and venerated, he found that the little strumming motion he liked to do when he played with himself was also one that made you whine deliciously; calloused pads oscillating over supple fullness and hardened peaks.
Eddie abandoned his paltry devotions to continue onwards. He knelt back and quickly began removing your skirt and underwear, cute little things that would serve no purpose if you were to let him proceed.
“Is this ok Honey? You can tell me to stop,” he assured you. You bit your lip and your bliss-filled face became bashful, but you shook your head anyway. “No? You want me to stop?”
“Don’t stop,” you replied breathily. “Please.”
“I won’t. I’ll give you whatever you want. I promise.”
He ushered you to scoot further up the bed so your head could be cradled by the plush pillows. He couldn’t resist dropping another kiss or two to your lips, to sooth the sting that your teeth were inflicting. Your little needy noises were cute, but you were holding back and he simply couldn’t let that happen.
“I want to hear you,” he muttered, running his thumb over your lips. “It’s just us. No one will hear. I need to know if I’m doing something you don’t like. Or something you really like. Then I know to do it again next time.”
“Next time?”
“Yeah…this isn’t some quick romp at a party or outside a concert, sweetheart. I want to make you feel good again.” He pressed a kiss to your lips for emphasis. “And again.” Another kiss to your breast. “And again.” One last kiss against your stomach before he settled himself in the cradle of your thighs, hissing the slightest bit as his hips came in contact with your mattress.
He was throbbing, aching for his own pleasure, eager for a release that he’d been ignoring and denying himself. He shifted and found a little friction, the mattress and his jeans doing just enough to sate him while he took care of another hunger.
Never let it be said that Eddie hadn’t met a pussy that he didn’t think was pretty but you—open for him and wanting--were gorgeous. Tempting. Eddie clicked his tongue as he finally got a good look at you, fluttering with want, dripping with ambrosia.
“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted more?” He admonished with a smirk, looking up at you with hooded eyes as he settled your leg over his shoulder, nestling in for an extended, more comfortable time. “I wouldn’t have made you wait so long.”
“I didn’t…I…” Your excuse was cut off by your combined moans as he latched onto you, immediately finding the swollen button at the top of your sex. He laved back and forth, teasing you until you whined. The taste of you, the smell of you—the earthy sweetness that bloomed on his tongue and settled at the base of his throat—caused his hips to jerk against the bed and he pulled back a little, eager but ready to let you feel good for as long as he could. He rotated his attention between your clit and your lips and your neglected little hole, kissed and nuzzled and lapped up whatever slick you gifted him.
Eddie moved his hand from where it was caressing your thigh so he could ramp up the fun. You jumped as he caressed your lips, played with the spit and slick.
“Do you touch yourself honey?” You covered your face. “Didn’t I just tell you that I wanted to hear you? So tell me, do you touch yourself?”
“Yes,” you threw your hands down and grasped the plush comforter.
“Do you think of me?” You nodded. “I can’t hear you. Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to touch you? Do you want more?” He blew a soft breath across your thigh and you shivered.
“P-please, more.”
Eddie slid his fingers over you, watched as you shuddered and twitched, basked in your wanton little noises. With his other hand, he shifted slightly and undid his belt and the fly of his jeans, pushing them down just so, so he could rock against the bed, seeking more physical relief. He dove back in with kisses and licks and nips, getting adventurous as he slid a finger into you. You stiffened up for just a moment before he took you to higher heights.
"Uuhnnnhhh, yes," you moaned breathily. Beautifully. "Right there. Yes!"
The tightness was luxurious and his head spun, imagining what the rest of the night might bring. He could feel you panting, getting closer and closer to your peak. He would get you there. Gladly. Again and again. Over and over until you couldn’t take any more.
“Please!”
“What do you want, honey?”
“Please I’ve—“
“You wanna cum sweetheart.” He grinned against you. “I’ll get you there but you have to beg. Come on.”
"P-please S-Steve!"
Eddie froze.
His ears started ringing. His entire body was numb. He couldn’t…couldn’t breathe. It all came flooding back, the realization, the hatred, the resentment. The want to be with you and the fact that he couldn't.
"W-what's wrong?!" you stammered and pushed yourself onto your elbows to get a better view of him. "What happened?"
Eddie couldn't answer. He could barely look at you.
He pushed your leg off his shoulder, and as he did he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror beside the bed—
The freckled skin, the fluffy hair, the rumpled polo, the hazel eyes staring back at him smugly.
--he couldn't even look at himself.
“Please, talk to me. What happened? Did I do something wrong?"
"I just...I..." he choked at the sound of his voice. But not his voice.
He shook his head and pushed himself off the bed. He ran a hand over his face and ignored the questions that came out of you. He quickly yanked up his jeans and barely fastened them. He ignored the belt.
He quickly turned on his heel and ran out of your room. He jammed his feet into his shoes and fumbled with the jacket he had hung on the coat hook by the door to get his keys.
Not his keys.
Steve’s keys. Steve’s car, Steve’s body, Steve’s life, Steve’s love.
Not his.
He let the jacket fall to the floor, abandoned, as he quickly made his escape.
All the while you called and ran after him.
"Steve?! Wait! Steve!!"
Tag List is currently suspended.
Freaky Friday Chapter 5 will be uploaded by Sunday, May 21st at 7pm CST.
#freaky friday au#Eddie Munson x reader#Steve Harrington x reader#Eddie Munson angst#Eddie Munson smut#Steve Harrington angst#Eddie Munson fluff#Steve Harrington fluff#stranger things fic#eddie munson headcanons
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Time is meaningless, so just Good. How are you.
I know all the puppets' personalities are essentially the same, but they clearly don't act like children's characters anymore (like wallys fuck you to fionn in that one ask;I know it was a joke but still)
When wally watches old wh reruns, or when any of the others see any, I feel like they'd get reeeallly embarrassed. And like, identity-crisissy seeing how they were before they gained sentience
Sally (on tv): I just LOVE watching MOVIES with my FRIENDS!!! What's YOUR favorite movie???
(awkwardly long pause)
That's MY favorite, too!!!!
Regular Sally: 😐😑 what the fuck
Just some thoughts to rotate in your brain. Have a Day
Abgbgfnghf I mean you're not wrong - they keep their original personalities but as the days go on they realise they've actually changed a lot from who they were before they gained sentience...
Wally, still the friendliest neighbour you could meet and still a lover of the arts, but everything he went through changed him from a once calm and silly puppet to a tired, traumatised puppet who feels responsible for their predicament, and suffers from the betrayal of his own Home.
Barnaby still loves to tell jokes and act the sly, silly scallywag he is, but inside is an unshakeable paranoia, that he might lose his neighbours and best friend for real this time, and he doesn't want that to happen. He's already lost his mama technically, and that's bad enough!
Still joyful and playful, Julie feels skittish and restricted however, in a world that sees adults as those who have to be serious, hard money making machines, where fun is looked down upon. On top of that she has technically lost her siblings.
Frank remains knowledgable and stoic, his love for butterflies never dying, but inside he hates the sudden change. He didn't want to leave Home, he didn't want it to go; thus he is prone to meltdowns every now and then.
Eddie's heart is still of gold, still clumsy as can be yet forever well meaning, but after seeing Home's carnage, he feels kind of lost. His dear post office was ripped away from him, and his dearest Frank was nearly taken too, so he will never let Frank out of his sight, no matter how overbearing he seems.
Friendly clerk Howdy remains the fast talking, smiley caterpillar he always was, and even gets a chance to let loose in the human world, but like Eddie, he so dearly misses his little bodega, even if it nearly hurt him. He now feels responsible for Frank and Eddie's behaviour, trying to keep them in check, and oh how can dealing with Fionn grind his sanity.
Once a performer, always a performer: Sally always likes to make little plays to keep everyone happy, and will make all the foolproof plans in the world to keep them safe from any dangerous humans. However even the most skilled actress can tucker herself out with people pleasing through acting, and like Howdy, arguing with Fionn puts a toll on you.
Poppy is definitely the most careful neighbour, always looking out for her friends and being there for them always. But after travelling to a whole new world, wouldn't your nerves and worries increase tenfold? Hers certainly did, bumbling and whimpering at anything bad that might happen, feeling like a burden due to her cautious nature.
Watching their old shows brings back a sad mix of hopelessness, longing and nostalgia - they may not be able to go back, it seems, but at least they can still experience their old lives one way or another, even with the occasional embarrassment at their quirks in episodes!
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Legacies | Ten
Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter
Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Kazansky!OC
Summary: Iceman is dead. At his funeral secrets are revealed. Hangman doesn't take this revelation too well, causing more hurt and heartbreak.
Warnings: military inaccuracies, mentions of dying, mentions of parental death/parental loss, funeral
Wordcount: 4k
If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don’t allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. Please don’t steal my work.
A/N: Here it is. The big bad chapter. I hope you got your tissues ready. This was hard to write for me too. I wish I could promise that the next couple of chapters are going to make it better but I fear for now we are in the droughts before it can get better again. Feel free to slide into my asks if you need some pick-up or fluff to handle it in between the wait! There is so much more to say for this story and pairing.
Taglist: open, message me or comment to be added, will be put as reblog
So how do I say goodbye
To someone who's been with me for my whole damn life?
You gave me my name and the color of your eyes
I see your face when I look at mine
So how do I, how do I, how do I say goodbye?
Admiral Thomas ‘Iceman’ Kazansky, Commander of the U.S. Pacific Fleet was dead.
The news had come unexpectedly, surprising everyone who hadn’t been part of the late Admirals closest circle and family. Grief over the loss of their Commander had taken the Navy by surprise. Many had met the aviator and worked with him over the course of his impressive and long career.
There wasn’t a single sailor in their branch that didn’t have something good to say about the man. He’d inspired many, friends and colleagues alike to the men serving under him.
Now he was gone.
The daggers shifted uneasily in their stiff formal uniforms, arranged in a line at the front with many other servicemen on the military graveyard. A large crowd had gathered today to honor the legend.
Men and women had come flocking from every part of the US, some even from other parts of the world. And while a majority of them were in service uniforms, the uniformous dark silhouettes of civilians weren’t to be disregarded either.
Each one of them stood tall and proud, representing, their eyes remained forward as the ceremony was taking place. Maverick and Cyclone stood to the side of the casket, flanking the late Commander's family.
Jake hadn’t taken much notice of them, too occupied with standing still and occasionally also thinking about Ana. As the repeated ring of shots from the rifle detail sounded on, he couldn’t help but wonder how she was doing, certainly going through a similar ceremony saying goodbye to her father.
Once the honor guard had folded the American flag, Cyclone stepped forward to take over and represent Iceman’s widow with it. It was then that Jake’s eyes for the first time focused on her. And it was then that he noticed someone very familiar, clad in a black dress, just beside her.
It was Ana.
Red-rimmed eyes, even from this distance Hangman could see how heartbroken she was, her face barely holding the neutral expression she’d put on. The two women were holding hands, Ana clutching her mother’s hand and staring blankly at the casket.
As Cyclone stepped towards them they had to let go of one another. Ana’s eyes briefly broke away and turned to the side. She glanced at the flag only for a short moment, set to look away again. Her eyes strayed toward the crowd, and when they did they met his.
The eye contact didn’t last long but it was enough for Jake to realize who she was. He hadn’t been able to piece it together until now. A part of him hadn’t wanted to believe it to be her, but as she’d looked at him there was no denying it.
She was Kazansky’s daughter. The rumored Top Gun graduate who had changed her last name in order to hide her identity and to not be associated with her father.
Anger rose in the pit of Jake’s stomach. Fiery hot and acidic, it threatened to boil over and consume him. Disappointment settled into every cell of his, not that Jake would have been able to realize so as the anger masked any other sensation he could have felt.
Ana’s eyes widened in surprise, the recognition that had settled over him now overcoming her.
Her secret was out.
Just as quickly as they had crossed she averted her eyes but Jake couldn’t help but continue staring at her. There was nowhere else he could look at now, than at her.
She wouldn’t look toward him again.
Perhaps it was better so. Jake wasn’t sure he’d have been able to hold himself back had their eyes met once again. Even now the emotions in him boiled close to the surface still, eating away at his resolve and composure. His body was engulfed in flames.
It was an ugly sensation, rotten and tainted. He felt betrayed. Hurt and angry. So many emotions swirled inside him, he couldn’t name them all. They blurred together to form one shifting, rising monster. Its low rumbles grew louder as its sharp talons dug into him, demanding to claw its way to the surface.
It was the betrayal that hurt the most. No small measure, she’d kept something as momentous as this from them. Their teammates. Their friends. Even after being asked about it, she’d feigned ignorance.
Navy funerals were short. They were straightforward and to the point. Jake barely caught the ending of it. As the group of sailors and civilians slowly dispersed he found himself once more looking out for Ana, rooted to his spot.
“Are you coming?” Halo stood beside him with an arched brow.
“I’ll be there in a second.” Answer enough for Halo, she turned around and followed the already retreating group of their team members.
Their path led them through the rows of gravestones, toward the front of the lot where the guests were gathering, soon to split into the private mourning party for the following funeral meal and the soldiers and others who would return to work and their own lives.
But Jake couldn’t leave yet, even if he had assured Halo he’d follow. He hadn’t even looked at her during their short exchange, instead, his eyes had searched the crows for the familiar - or now not-so-familiar - person. She couldn’t have moved past him, he’d seen.
At last, his sharp eyes found her. Ana remained motionless in front of the fresh grave, inconsolably staring at the spot her father had been lowered down mere minutes ago. His final resting place was covered in fresh soil. The dark color stood in contrast with the white marble headstone and the vibrant flowers the remaining family members had placed on top of it. Flower wreaths and bouquets would follow in the next few days, crowding every available space.
The dewy grass made soft noises, scrunching under his feet as Jake stepped toward her. Mere meters away from her he was when Ana looked up. A pang of empathy erupted in his chest, painfully spreading through him, worse than any bullet wound could ever hurt. He hated seeing her this sad and crushed.
Her cheeks were wet with streaks of tears, eyes red-rimmed. A quiet sniffle carried over to him guided by the soft breeze. It ruffled her hair, carefully tucked away in a bun that showed some dignity and semblance to her usually tidy and proper, uniform glad, appearance. Wisps of hair gradually loosened now hanging down, having been pulled out through bouts of nervosity and great emotional distress, framing her face, painted an altogether different picture for him.
Any notion of commiseration was overtaken by the wave of anger crashing over Jake in an even more violent way than during the ceremony. Failing to reel his emotions in, to shove them back into the deep pit he’d had them banished mere moments ago, he lost all control over himself.
Any composure he’d had was gone and with it, his inhibitions and smart thinking had left as well. Jake would surely hate himself for it the second he’d step out of the cemetery but right now he couldn’t care less.
“You lied.” The accusation was vile, thinly concealed anger brushing at his lips, demanding to be unleashed.
“I didn’t.”
“You did. You lied to all of us.”
You lied to me
“It’s not what you think, Jake,” Ana whispered, her voice barely loud enough for the breeze to carry it.
“Oh?”, he scoffed, “Then what is it? Why do you think you didn’t lie to us? Does this not qualify as dishonesty?”
“All my life I have been the Admiral’s daughter. Kazansky’s youngest,” her own name was hard to voice out loud in this difficult time, reminding her too much of the loss. “Ever since I was little people looked at me and only saw my father’s daughter. They made it easy for me, treated me better, gave things to me just because I was who my name made me when all I always wanted was to be looked at and for them to not see my father’s daughter but me.
I wanted to just be me. Not Ana Kazansky, daughter of the famous Iceman.
Just Ana.”
There was a pause, a brief lull, in her explanation in which she looked at him with hopeful eyes. But the hostility with which he eyed her quickly had the hope wither away. She’d never seen him this distant and closed off, not even when he was fully immersed into being Hangman.
“I knew I could never prove myself and achieve something on my own if I was known as the Admiral’s daughter. Everyone would say I didn’t work hard enough to get so far, that my father’s position got me everything. I didn’t want to be labeled a fraud and be accused of illicitly getting into the Academy and Top Gun.
So I decided to become someone no one would know by taking my mother’s maiden name.
I became no one.”
What was his entitlement to judge her on a decision she’d made for her life? Long before she’d ever known him or any of the others? She did not owe anyone but her parents and herself an explanation for her choice. Had she not done it, someone would have found fault in her decision either way.
Yet it hurt much worse for Jake to be this angry about it than any other person. She didn’t give a damn about a stranger's feelings on it and frankly even her colleagues and friends, yet why did it bother her so much to see him with his jaw tightly set in tension and nose scrunched in anger.
Jake kept quiet for too long. Her words echoed in his head. He didn’t want to understand her. His anger made him irrational, refusing to see any reason or logic in it. Even if he wanted to understand her, his anger wouldn’t let him. The monster that had grown deep inside him forbade him from doing so. It wouldn’t let him back down.
“And you think that makes a difference? You still deceived us.”
He forced himself to turn around without another word. One foot in front of another, mechanically he marched away from her. No, not entirely.
Two more graves lay between them when he turned around once more. The small, fiercely fighting part of his good conscience had lost against the bitter, petty monster that was his hurt, his betrayed feelings, his anger.
“I suppose you won’t come back to finish the mission. Better like that anyway. We don’t need someone we don’t actually know in the air with us. We need someone we can trust.”
Ana watched him turn around, letting her stand there. He marched briskly, calculated steps carrying him through the narrow rows of graves toward the front of the cemetery.
All she could do was stare at the hat-clad back of his head and his tense, impossibly tight squared shoulder. Mind left reeling it felt like with his retreat he’d pulled the earth beneath her feet, plucking her into a dark, endless descent.
First, it were her lips that trembled as fresh tears misted over her eyes, then her hands, and soon her legs followed. Ana felt the world coming down around her, its weight ready to crush her. Was she not already crushed? The loss of her father had felt like the worst pain she’d ever felt. A hole where her heart had been, she was sure it had been laid beneath the ground with his human remains.
Why then were it Hangman’s words that ultimately brought her to her knees? All strength drained from her limbs, her knees buckling beneath her as she slowly sank down. Down, down, down until she crouched there, head hung, arms wrapped around herself in a feeble attempt for comfort. The endless waterfall of tears dripped onto her knees, wetting the dark fabric of her dress.
Rooster clenched his fists beside his body, teeth churning as he watched her crumble to the ground. All because of him. Hangman.
Unbeknownst to either of them he had watched their exchange from the distance that was the gravelly front of the graveyard. The attendees of the funeral all gathered there now.
As Hangman reached the group that was the Daggers everything in him screamed to intercept his path. To knock the arrogant bastard onto his ass and punch a couple of his perfect white molars out.
Even if Rooster had had his own differences and fights with Ana, she was still as close to a little sister as he could have and no one - but especially not Hangman - got to hurt her like that. Not when she was already hurting enough. He wanted to look out for her, albeit punching the blonde menace and causing a scene now weren’t the best way to do it.
So instead he glowered at him, a death glare as strongly as Rooster could muster it, and in that he was a master. Hangman breezed past him and most of the rest of the group for that. The gravel under his feet crunched. While the others didn’t understand what was going on, they took the blonde’s initiative to also leave.
“Rooster, you coming?” Phoenix stepped beside him. Her eyes briefly went to the opposite side of the yard, where the private funeral party had gathered. The Kazansky’s. Maverick.
“Go on without me. I’ve got a ride back.”
Phoenix eyed him a moment longer than necessary, gauging his words before she nodded. They’d all come to the graveyard together, shuttled by a navy bus. Her hand briefly landed on his shoulder, squeezing him before she turned around, joining the rest of them on their way back to the bus.
Straightening his back Bradley walked over to the people he considered his extended family. Many of the familiar faces acknowledged him with small nods or waves and the more or less successful try of a smile mustered. He walked past most of them after a polite nod, aiming straight for his aunt Sarah.
Outwardly she seemed composed, her face embellished in the same stubborn mask Ana had worn during the procession. As he pulled her into a hug her composure grumbled and he felt her slump against him, softly crying. Bradley muttered his condolences into her ear, holding her tightly against him.
He knew best how it was to lose someone important. They’d been there for him after he’d lost his father and their presence had been even stronger when he’d lost his mother to sickness and Maverick to betrayal. There wasn’t one moment in his life in which he remembered the Kazansky’s not being there for him. It was time to give some of this unwavering support back in this dire moment of need and hurt.
It took Ana a long while to calm down enough so she could stand up again. Even then her legs still trembled. It took her even longer to be ready to move. When she was, she felt still rattled, as if the glue that was holding her had come undone.
Hands clenched at her sides and her head turned downwards toward the grass beneath her feet, she was walking quickly. Bouts of electricity shot through her, one after the other feeling like she was shocked by an outside source.
The cemetery was mostly empty now, safe for her family. Before she could reach them another person stepped into her path. Her eyes traveled from the shined shoes, upward the crisp black pants toward the face she least expected to see.
Bradley stood across from her, the rest of the Daggers nowhere to see. A fact she was rather grateful for at the moment. Still, the sight of him put her on edge. She wouldn’t be able to handle it if Bradley were to treat her with hostility now as well.
To her big surprise, there was no harshness, no cold distance in his eyes. Not like the last time he had looked at her. Ever since their talk on the tarmac, he’d kept his distance from her. Either outright ignoring or avoiding.
Entirely opposite now Bradley eyed her with warmth and compassion. He walked over to her, with every step he came closer Ana felt herself start to tremble again. By the time he reached her, her lips wobbled dangerously, eyes once more watery.
“Bradley,” she whimpered, falling into his arms as he enveloped her. Damned be the navy regulations on uniforms, she didn’t care as her hands clawed into the fabric of his jacket, holding on for dear life.
“Shh, Teds,” she heard him rumble, a strong and warm hand rubbing soothingly over her back.
“Do you think I was out of line not telling the team who Dad was?”
Doubts had started to gnaw at her the moment Hangman had accused her of it. She’d never seen it as lying to them, as being deceiving. What would that information have changed about her ability to fly the mission? What would have changed about her hard work?
Bradley pushed her back enough to be able to look into her tear-stained face. She looked miserable. Broken.
Another wave of anger washed over him, silently cursing Hangman for causing this. Not long ago he had accused her of the same thing. In his anger over the situation and the close proximity with Maverick, he had misled and directed his anger toward her.
“No, you weren’t.” Reaching out he wiped away her tears and made sure she looked at him, that she saw the seriousness in his eyes.
“You did what was right for you, what was the right decision for you. You chose to do this long before any of them knew you. You didn’t do it to deceive anyone did you?”
She shook her head, sniffling quietly.
“It is understandable that you didn’t want to be reduced to your familial connections or last name. No one can blame you for the choice you made to be yourself.” Bradley watched her lips tremble once more, eyes glossing over as new tears threatened to fall. Once more he pulled her into his embrace.
“You earned it. Every single thing you earned on your own. Your place at the Academy, graduating as one of their best students. You became a naval aviator. You got into Top Gun and graduated first place. That’s all your doing. You did that, all on your own and no one can take this from you.
On top of that you are an amazing person. Sure you are a great pilot but you are an even greater friend. Doesn’t matter if you are Ana Lawson or Ana Kazansky. The name doesn’t change who you are at your core. Anyone who can’t see and accept that isn’t worth it.”
Hangman wasn’t worth it. If that arrogant bastard couldn’t see who she was but more importantly who she was no matter her last name, then he didn’t deserve to be even in the same city as her.
Bradley didn’t want to pour more salt into the already irritated wound so he kept quiet about the blonde. Instead, he let her cry against his shoulder, the same way not long ago her mother had done so. If this was how he could help them, he’d let them soak every shirt he owned with their tears.
After a long silence in which Ana’s sobs had gradually lessened, she lifted her head off his shoulder. Her eyes were red and puffy, cheeks wet, hair even more mussed up. Softly Bradley brushed a piece of hair behind her ear before his hand at her back carefully guided her to the parking lot.
Ana stopped in her steps, refusing to move as she saw the practically empty lot. There weren’t any people to be seen. Where was her mother? Where were her siblings? Panic settled over her as her eyes frantically began to search the place up and down, and then a second time. But still, no one had remained.
“Where are they?” There was a panicked hitch in her voice. They hadn’t left them, her, had they? They wouldn’t have done that? Had she lost them now too?
“Hey, Teds, take a breath for me.” Bradley once more stepped in front of her, his hands settled on her shoulders, softly but firmly grabbing her there. He was keeping her from hyperventilating, from outright panicking.
“I told them to go ahead to the house and that I would bring you two back.”
“Uncle Ron,” Ana breathed, her voice filling with emotion once more. She sidestepped Bradley, walking straight into the opened arms of Slider.
“Heya little chip.” The old nickname had her chuckle wetly and sniffle as she hugged him tightly. They hadn’t seen each other in a while, similarly to Maverick. She’d missed him just as much. Up and down Slider’s hand rubbed over her back in a comforting way.
“I’m there for you Teddy. Always. If you need something, don’t hesitate to call me.” Ana nodded against her uncle’s chest. He’d always been her hero. Slider had never not been anything but utterly devoted to her and her siblings.
“I promised your dad I’d look after you if anything were to happen ever and I’m planning to uphold this promise. If I have to, I'll cross the entire planet for it.”
Her heart warmed at this, the sensation was so strong it even overshadowed the pang of grief.
“Alright, now you two will get your asses into my car. Your mother will lynch me if we take too long.”
Water gurgled as it filled the vase. Droplets of it escaped the crystalline brim, traveling down the outer edge of the vessel and ran over Ana’s fingers. The cold sensation stood in contrast to everything else. Over the course of the day she had gradually numbed down, drowning noises alike out.
As the water overflowed she glanced down at the tap, shutting it off. Some of the water she emptied again before she placed the vase on the counter beside her, where one bouquet of the many flowers they’d gotten laid.
The big table in the dining room and the kitchen table were littered with them and stacks of condolence cards. It was overwhelming. As the flower slid into the vase, their stems submerging into the water, her mind drifted off once more.
Sighing heavily, she ultimately placed her hands down and let her head hang low.
“Mum?” The word left her lips hesitantly. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to utter the words, even less so to hear the answer. Her lips were dry and her throat tight. “Did I make a mistake?” Her shoulders started to shake, a sniffle leaving her lips.
“Did I make a mistake hiding my identity in the Navy? Did I–” She choked.
“–did I hurt Dad with my decision?” Close to breaking down at the thought of it, Ana heard the kitchen chair behind her scrape over the floor. Then her mother's arms were around her, Sarah hugging her from the side.
“Oh sweetheart, no. You didn’t make a mistake. You chose what was right.”
“Was it though?”
“Teddy, look at me,” Sarah softly asked, wiping the tear off her cheek. “Your father understood you. More than you believe.”
“You resemble him in so many ways,” sadness overcame her mother’s features as she looked at her, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You are so alike, he was exactly the same when he was your age. Wanted to prove himself and make it on his own. There was never a moment in which he wasn’t proud of you and standing fully behind your every decision.”
Looking at her mother with tear-streaked cheeks and heaving shoulders Ana couldn’t help but sob again. It felt like crying was the only thing she had done ever since.
“I miss him, Mom,” she whimpered, hiding her face on her mother’s shoulder.
“I do too, my sweet little girl.
He is looking down on us from above now. Watching out for us. Don’t ever think he won’t be there with you, for you.”
#legacies#hangman x oc#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x oc#hangman x reader#jake seresin x kazansky!oc#jake seresin x kazansky!reader#hangman seresin imagine#jake hangman seresin x oc#jake hangman seresin x reader#hangman top gun#hangman seresin#top gun maverick fanfiction
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I Won't Forget
Soap x Civilian!Reader
Your last night with Johnny...
SFW, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Established Relationship, Long Distance Relationships, Mutual Break-Ups, Failed Romance, A bit mopey, but not toxic, hopefully not OOC, Scarcely Proofread, Drabble
I felt like writing angst, but not heavy angst. Here's the drabble that thought concocted.
Masterlist
Johnny took the long way back home from the park. He hadn't commented on anything in particular, beyond what played on the radio, and you didn't mind the silences, frequent as they came tonight.
A choice lyric sent him into a small rant at some point, each new comment springing a giggle out of you. It warmed him each time to hear, though he wouldn't say so in words, even as he attempted to. Johnny feared he could never find the right way to express himself to you, but it never kept him from trying. He always was adaptive to anyone and anything, it seems. Anytime the world allowed for it.
The silence returned after a few more roads had passed, as though a sudden realization had dawned on you both; an impending doom and growing nausea which came once more. Reality.
When this drive was over, this was it. He'd be gone for another long assignment. Another indefinite amount of time. Another handful of moments taken. And after a long talk over dinner, you both came to the mutually painful conclusion that things needed to end.
Your lives split you two apart more often than not, and it was past time for you both to move forward without one another, no matter how ambitious you both had been about things; your problems could be swept away no longer.
For the first year it hadn't been so bad -- the long evening phone calls, the gifts and letters, and that unmatched excitement from finally reuniting. It made for memories you were sure to live with until your elderly days; like falling in love all over again. Yes... it hadn't been so bad the first year.
It took him about as long to make things between you two official; a whole year of him popping in and out of your area like a short-lived dream. When he'd asked you to be his girlfriend, you could feel the hesitancy mixed into the excitement in his voice, not from a fear of rejection but rather a fear of regret. Because even then he knew that being with him wouldn't be easy. You believed you could handle it.
By the third year the phone calls grew routine, feeling more akin to a daily task you had to do rather than a want or need. And while at times you had bemoaned the interruption they caused in your schedule, selfish as it had made you feel, you'd cry yourself to sleep every night you didn't hear from him at all, wanting to go back to those five minutes he could spare you between missions.
Eventually the stretches of radio silence between your calls grew so much that you stopped noticing them after awhile. These days it feels you've been together separately more often than near one another. His calm blue eyes looked more accustomed to your phone screen than right in front of you.
And it hadn't been as though Johnny were purposefully pushing you away. There was nothing more he wanted than to just find a nice plot of land and spend the rest of his days with you.
But this other side of him, his identity before you that had been the very other core of himself, Soap... that had just been a part of him that could not be separated.
He lived for his career, and it's all he's ever known until now. Being a soldier had meant everything to him and it hadn't been something he could so easily set aside, not even for you it seems. It was the one thing he felt he'd been good at, and it brought him just as much pride.
You couldn't take him away from his life, just as he couldn't do so to you. Your life mattered too, and that included being deserving of a present love. Someone to be there for the special moments, and someone you didn't have to wait for.
So he would stay a soldier, and you would go back to your life, uninterrupted this time. So goes the end of what had otherwise been a pleasant on-and-off time between you two.
But you hadn't wanted your last memories to be this. To be you both sitting silently, sadly, in the car as he drives you home. The ultimate summary of your relationship. You hadn't wanted this ending to feel so awful if it had been something you both agreed upon.
So you turn up the car radio and you sink back into the passenger's seat with a bittersweet smile. And when a dumb joke crosses his mind, Johnny finds himself unable to keep himself from sharing, even laughing for a time or two before the joke had even come out. If you both didn't talk about the obvious, then it didn't have to mean anything right now. Let that be later, and these moments feel endless.
You hope whatever road this is, that you've hit every red light, every stop sign, and every passing pedestrian the street could throw at you. You hoped Johnny would drive five miles under the speed limit and accidentally forget a turn or two, forcing him to backtrack and restart the route once again. You would hope to stop time itself tonight and keep the sun from setting any further over these quiet streets.
It was the hope that hurt the most, knowing these wishes were impossible and out of your hands, just as life always was. But you hoped for these things regardless. If not that, what else would there be beyond everything else around you?
You loved these finite moments, and it's many sweet little trappings. They were often provided just by the cool touch of his skin on yours, or the vibrations of his voice against your living room walls. You could spend ten years apart and three minutes together, and those three minutes would be the only thing you think about for the next ten years to come.
With each light you've passed, and corner you've turned, dread slowly rises in you, knotting in your throat even as you try to keep singing along to the radio.
Johnny stopped talking as much the closer you got home; he even stopped taking quick glances your way, replaced by small sighs and silences. You always did envy his ability to remain so calm around you, unable to tell if it had been some front of his or merely a side of him that you alone brought out of him.
Your eyes look down to see his hand firmly resting over the stick-shift, and you invite your own over it, letting your fingers dance lightly over his warm skin and cup them into your palm, feeling Johnny's fingers gently squeeze over yours as he's felt you.
His blue eyes glance your way momentarily, dipping back and forth between you and the road. He always adored the way you looked in his passenger's seat, sat comfortably with your legs crossed and your body leaned in as toward him as you could be within this confined space. He could easily reach out and let his hand rest over your thigh, that simple trust bringing him peace for the entire ride. Tonight his hand felt perfectly placed in yours, having your thumb caress his rough skin, and your warmth take the coolness in his palms away.
You come across a red light, the final one before your road. A brief moment longer between you two parted ways for good.
You look over at Johnny, who looks back at you. Had it been daytime, he may have seen the tears brewing in your eyes rather than the hazy gloss the night had shaded them with instead, tinted by a crimson glow.
"When are you leaving?" You could no longer keep the question to yourself, despite knowing the detail had been trivial at this point. A small part of you just needed to know.
Johnny holds back a sigh, keeping his gaze locked on you. "...Tomorrow afternoon."
"Ah..." You look down at your lap shyly, drumming your hand lightly against your thighs. "I'm guessing you won't be able to see me one more time before you go then..."
If he could have more time, he would give it to you in a heartbeat. He would have said that to you, but something held back his tongue. Some fear he'd yet to get over which had been admitting to the desperation he'd slowly begun to feel tonight. A desperation to make the time stop, take it back... only to be followed by the discomforting realization that no matter what, you could not in fact stop time. For better or for worse.
"I'm afraid not, Bonnie..." he said. "...I'm sorry."
"It's OK," you say, though your voice is faint. "Well... do you think you can spend the night?"
Johnny knew what you were doing, or rather trying to do. He knows you're well aware that he had until the sun rises before his departure, so if you could take every last hour of that time until then, you'd search for a way, somehow. It's something he loved most about you, and found himself thinking back on at multiple points throughout the night as he'd followed you into your apartment, prepared to make himself at home for a final time in your walls.
Your couch felt a bit more cozy this time, your living room more warm. There'd been no concern as to look at the clock, your drooping eyes and slurred words telling time well enough. Neither of you can remember when the conversation ended that night, but you wouldn't forget when he took you into his arms for again, pulling you into him beneath your covers, lips locking with yours.
Wrapped in each other, you didn't want to forget his skin or scent, the taste of his lips or how each movement brought you immense pleasure. You didn't want to forget a thing.
He fell asleep before you, and you woke up that morning before him. When the sun dipped through the curtains, you'd hoped he'd sleep a bit longer. And when his eyes finally crept open, as bittersweet as it felt, you greeted him with a kiss. It was small, but it was one you would always think back to.
(._. )
#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#john mactavish x reader#call of duty#modern warfare ii#call of duty modern warfare ii#mwii#mw2022#call of duty modern warfare 2#john soap mactavish#soap mw2#soap cod#john mactavish#modern warfare 3#call of duty modern warfare 3
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🩵“got me hangin from the ceilin”🩵
pairing: Jason Todd x Fem! Reader
summary: Red Hood and you have been flirty rivals. You make a mess and he’s there to clean it up and put you away, nothing more to it. At least that’s what you both think.
tropes: secret identity, rivals to lovers, superhero AU, hero x villian
warnings: might be ooc, I just got into dc lol
“Seriously darlin? Do I need to be upside down~?” Red Hood chuckled. Although you couldn’t see his face you could tell he was smirking to himself.
“Yeah, I like you better like this.” You smile as he tilts his head to the side.
“Well I don’t, too scared to look me in the eye darlin?” He said leaning closer making you gently hold his mask.
“I am right now aren’t I~?” You mutter closing the gap between you and his mask, a quick breath being taken as an inch of air was shared between the two of you.
“What’s your plan y/v/n? Tryna sweet talk me?” You quickly lift his mask to be met with his lips just stopping before you can see his eyes.
“Don’t you fuckin dare y/v/n.” He growled. You roll your eyes and looked at his face examining every painful scar scattered on his skin. You rub your hand over every small scratch and scar registering nothing but silence and the tension. Jason’s breath halted but continued as your soft thumb grazed against his rough skin like it was fragile.
“I wonder if you’re as hot as you sound Red~” you hummed subconsciously licking your lips. A bright red flushed his features getting a sweet chuckle from you. Under his mask Jason was conflicted. Risk his identity or.. stop this right now. He didn’t wanna stop. He loved the feeling of your hands and the way your voice swayed him. A warm feeling he loved always overcame his body.
“So what now darlin, gonna expose me to the world?” He growled attempting to escape his restraints. You chuckle and tilt his head back staring at his lips.
“Oh no.. I would never, just let me get one before leave.” You mutter, your left hand held his helmet so you couldn’t see his whole face while the other rubbed from behind his ear to his shoulder. Every second your hand explored his muscles if felt as if it set sparks aflame. He wanted you so bad right now.
“And what do you want before you leave?” He asked sarcastically before you finally closed the gap between the two of you. His lips stayed still for a minute before relaxing and becoming more in sync. You slowly parted leaving little room between the two of you.
“Let me down and I’ll-“ he’s stopped by the sound of the Batmobile roaring through the streets. Specifically the one they are on. You slide his mask up and back away slowly admiring your work with an almost teasing smile on your face.
“Not happening tonight but~ I enjoyed that, we should do it more often Red~” you hum with a wink before sliding out the window and to your escape.
Moments later the door busts down revealing the bat himself.
“Jason what happened-“ he asked as Jason sat silently avoiding the bats eyes.
“She uh.. she got away.” Jason huffed as Batman cuts the wire holding him up causing him to fall. Jason composes himself and stands up before fixing his mask all the way.
“We just found a lead on who she is and who she’s working for.” Batman reveals walking out of the empty apartment. Red hood silently follows listening but also thinking.
Did you mean what you said?
“So what really happened?” Dick asked leaning in the doorway of his room with Tim behind him.
“I told you what happened-“ Jason started before being interrupted by Dick.
“Not all of it. You were barely responsive during the meeting.” Dick said with a smirk.
“She didn’t do anything did she?” Tim asked. Jason held his mask and stared at it reminiscing about the way your hands explored him, cradled his face as if porcelain.
“..we kissed.” Jason muttered aggravated and blushing.
“I’m sorry what did you say~?” Dick said putting a hand to his ear. Jason sighed and asked for his door to be closed. Tim closes it as Dick’s eyebrow raises.
“We kissed.. and I liked it.” Jason sighed tossing his helmet on his bed.
“You what?! Do you know what Bruce would think-“ Tim started for Dick to laugh.
“So what, you two are an item now?” Dick crosses his arms and Jason’s eyebrows furrowed as he thought.
“No.. I just have this feeling..” Jason sighs. Is he in love with you? You two couldn’t be together but he wanted you so bad. You were nothing but temptation and you have him around your finger. What he doesn’t know is that you felt it too.
Authors notes: yall I’ve been playin Arkham Knight and although I hate the controls it got me really into DC. I do have other fanfictions coming out but I may add DC to the Masterlist 👀
#Spotify#jason todd#jason todd x reader#fanfic#x reader#dcu#dc universe#red hood#red hood x y/n#batman#dc fanfic#mxrtixnzwrld
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So, I wasn't gonna post anything about this, honestly, but because I was directly asked, here's my 2 cents!
First, I want to thank you for saying you trust me with this! I'm also on the ace-spectrum, and I'm a queer, bisexual woman, so I do have a lot of empathy with you and everyone else who was down for queer rep.
(Also, I do not have Anon turned on for my asks. I absolutely respect your privacy, but I've been harassed before, and if people want to come at me, they can do it with their whole chest. Similarly, if people want to come TO me, I'd love to be friends!)
I want to start off with the fact that whilst I understand that you believe the article, I don't. Call it the skeptic in me, or my media literacy classes during my grad program or denial or what have you, but we live in a huge era of misinformation. A tabloid is not likely to be any kind of reliable source, and a random reddit user even less so. It's like making a balloon full of pudding and having a clown say it's helium. We're not going to know until the needle pops it. Surely, no one would ever lie on the internet.
That being said, as much as I yearned and wanted for Demi Colin to be confirmed, it's not set in stone, and so it couldn't have been taken away from us. Honestly, even being ace-spec, a lot of the HC of Demi!Colin started putting a bad taste in my mouth when I realized that a lot of this predominately cishet fandomw as doing it as a means of keeping Colin 'pure' for Penelope, and that struck me as incredibly acephobic. Sure, they were HCing him as one of us. . .but not because it fit with his character or provided a rich and interesting arc for him to explore, but more so that his identity was an extension of their hopes and wants for Penelope. It wasn't for him as a character, but for him as a prize. And that made me so very sad, so my dream of Demi!Colin died when I saw that happening so frequently. Us Demi and Ace folks deserved better than that, and we continue to.
Either way, I think you are absolutely allowed to feel your disappointment! This is a frustration safe zone! There was a lot of potential this season, especially for Colin, that I feel has been dropped. But even IF that article contains some truth (big, heavy IF). . .idk, I see it through the lens that lot of us Demi folks have had sex. Even no strings attached sex. I know I have. Was I disassociated from it for a lot of the time? Yeah. Was it satisfying? No. But did it happen? It did. I chose to take part in it, and they were experiences that helped me grow. And I am no less Demi for it! IF this article is true, instead of us freaking. . .I feel like it could tell us a lot about Colin's character.
He is a man who has had, largely, no good role models in his life. Not in this regard. Who does he have to guide him? Anthony? Literally said he should have taken Colin to brothels. Benedict? Hell, he had a threesome himself. Why wouldn't Colin be out here thinking 'This is what Men do, this is what my brothers do, why not?' Colin is young. He's 23 still trying to find himself. And the entire idea of 'oh, he's a nerd! no way he's had threesomes' lol, like nerds aren't kinky? Come on, I'm a nerd and I've done way more than people would assume I have. He was traveling for months, and I think this really isn't as huge a deal as we're making it out to be. I ship Polin exclusively, and I love the idea of them having their firsts together, but I'm also not angry otherwise. In my mind, he's still demi. Just like he'll always be ND, even if it isn't confirmed.
Sidenote, o want to touch on something that is somewhat unrelated to your post, but something I'm seeing a lot is the whole 'it's dehumanizing for him to watch two women!' or 'it's lesbian fetishization!'
from the very bottom of my heart, as a gay woman, people saying that can eat me. These are the same people who didn't care about any of our representation, before. They didn't care about having lesbian characters, didn't bring them up. Now that it affects their (largely) het pairing, and specifically Colin as a perfect prize in a pairing he has largely been denied a narrative within, we're talking pieces and pawns for their discontent? No, I refuse. There are legitimate criticisms that can and should take place about Bridgerton's lack of care toward wlw, and especially that our only representation may actually just be a lesbian performance for the sake of a threesome, but this is not a criticism on COLIN. It is a criticism on the PRODUCTION. Because if we had queer women in the series before, it wouldn't be an issue. However, I refuse to have my sexuality used as a 'ewwww gross! look what they're doing! isn't that soooo wrong?' gotcha moment by people who just don't like his character. If we're gonna have a conversation about it, we should have a conversation about it based purely on our actual desire to protect and care for queer women. Not using us as stepping stone soap boxes to prop up an argument.
Queer people are really done dirty in the Polin fandom, and this is proof of it. Demi!Colin is important to me, and he continues living on in my heart and my fics, and even if it turns out that he's fucked up and down the Amalfi coastline and watched live porn, that won't make him less demi to me, personally. Ace spec people's experience with sex is all unique, and honestly, watching seems very in line with Colin's character. I don't agree with peeps who call it weird or gross that he watches porn.
This is an incredibly puritanical fandom, and I find it more and more evident as I spend time in it. The entire 'suffering' 'penance' 'deserve her' 'grovel' train was already very clear in that regard, and then people only wanting Colin to be a virgin so he remained 'pure' and 'untarnished' (legit takes I had to read with my own eyeballs) for Penelope was so Catholic on main that it made me feel insane.
Us ace-spec peeps deserve to be and should have the space to be upset at any developments taking place! We also deserve to be free from people doing pseudo pearl clutching and hiding behind feminist and queer-friendly language to disguise that they're just upset that Colin is getting anything at all in his storyline that centers around him and his own discovery outside of Penelope. Even if he isn't a virgin, he can absolutely still be Demi, Anon! And I hope that brings you some comfort.
Am I a fan of the threesomes foursomes moresomes and live porn speculation? No, not particularly. Am I livid furious throwing up about it? Also no. This series has betrayed me and disappointed me in so many ways, but so has the fandom. I guess I'm accustomed to it, now. But I want to reiterate that we should not believe everything that is posted. Some rando on a reddit forum confirming a tabloid article does not investigative journalism and peer review and confirmed sources make.
But in the event that the season does disappoint and gives us some baffling storylines: this is where fanfic can be such a comfort. It's how a story lives on in perpetuity. I've written trans!Colin and queer!Colin and demi!Colin and virgin!Colin and bdsm!Colin and all sorts! We can give we everything we want. It's our playground and it's meant to be fun.
But over my dead body will I believe a Sun UK article lol
#tagging because i was asked to make it public#polin#penelope featherington#colin bridgerton#hot takes are hot i guess?
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I'm currently looking at Lucifer and wondering how exactly he's going to develop in the whole plot of Hazbin. Not necessarily PLOT development (example: getting past Lilith, getting closer to Charlie, etc.), more like personality traits that are either going to be revealed or developed overtime.
(Okay this got a lot longer than I expected, so um... here's a read more lol. I guess this is a sort of character development inference...?)
I really like the idea that every character in Hazbin has good and bad traits, despite being in Heaven or Hell. For example, we have Angel Dust. He's a nice person, but he does have problems opening up to people (understandable given his past), as well as giving into bad vices and pushing people away. So, we've seen Lucifer's tendencies of neglecting to connect with others, but being a good person and genuinely wanting connections, especially with his daughter.
HOWEVER, I am interested in whether or not they are going to do anything with the fact that he is the Sin of Pride. I've seen a few mention how the other Sins we've seen are a bit of the opposite of their sin. Ozzie is the Sin of Lust, but unlike how a lot of people would probably view the embodiment of lust, he values consent and can make genuine romantic connections. Queen Bee is Gluttony, but does care that people at her party do not overindulge to the point that they get hurt.
However, for many of the Sins so far, they do engage with their sins in their own way. Ozzie still does indulge in lust, just while caring for every party's consent (thank God he's not a Valentino. We love that for Ozzie). Queen Bee does indulge in vices like drinking and partying to what could be seen as a negative extent, with what seems to be her limit being that no one gets hurt. Otherwise, it seems to be fair game for her.
So, for Lucifer, I'm loving how we all see him as a total Smol Bean. So far, he is a total Smol Bean. However, I'm totally anticipating SOMETHING that might be like... a bombshell for our depressed blorbo's character. Specifically, that something may be a few prideful/narcissistic tendencies coming through. Like him trying to get more attention on himself, now that he's finally taken a step out of his workshop and gotten some attention from not only his daughter, but her friends.
He may not be like "YO I'M FUCKING AWESOME GUYS LOOK AT ME" sorta prideful, but maybe more of a "Guys I'm so awful and I feel horrible and I have so many problems give me comfort" sorta... well, not really prideful, but more so manipulative and attention seeking. Possibly without even knowing it, either, considering how him and Charlie seem similar in being well meaning so far. So, if he does development a sort of manipulative tendency in order to get attention towards him, he may not even realize that's what is happening. He might just think "I feel bad and have to complain. After all, I know my family and her friends can help cheer me up!"
I think it'd be pretty interesting, at least. Like, so far, Lucifer is the complete opposite of what you'd expect the Sin of Pride to be. He's depressed, self-conscious, and has probably been isolating himself from everybody that COULD give him attention for years. However, much like the other Sins are still the embodiment of what they represent, he's still the Sin of Pride. He probably still engages, or will develop ways to engage in traits you'd see in pride. So, him using his pre-existing traits, whether unintentionally or not, to get attention would be interesting to see. It'd still keep a lot of his character together while showing that he can still have flaws that are unlikeable. (It'd probably also put into perspective Charlie's line about him only really when he's bored or needs Charlie to do something. Like, it could be that he just isn't good at talking to people, including Charlie, but it could also be linked to his identity as the Sin of Pride if his personality does go this route).
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar#Haha idk what this is#character analysis#Story inference?#Idk but I needed to spout my nonsense
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I already talked about why I love Pucci on a logical sort of level but I didn't get in depth about what I think and feel about him as a character and why he stuck with me enough to get him permanently tattooed on my skin so I'm gonna get into it a little bit. Feel free to skip this one because it's not really analysis and delves a tiny bit into interpretation/headcanon so I guess it's more blogposting than anything.
To be honest although I really liked his design and the cool black representation he is, and Whitesnake was instantly my favorite stand, I didn't like him right away, I thought he was a little bit of a weirdo in his introduction scene with Miraschon, and it took some time for him to grow on me. His design and themes land right in the middle of stuff I've been interested in since forever (Christianity, the moon, space, technology, arts, science...) so of course I had an interest in him. I remember that I really liked the fact that even though he's a priest he's knee deep in the occult with the green baby and making Foo Fighters etc, I thought that was super interesting. It took me til the end of the part to root for him, and then when he was defeated, I realized that I wasn't as happy as I should have been lol.
I guess one of the first reasons why I was touched by Pucci on a personal level is that I felt really strongly empathic towards him, and his behavior and actions just let me feel like I caught a glimpse of his many emotions inside, even though he has a thick facade. For example, his loneliness felt very real to me. Having lost most of his family, and his dear ones by his own fault, them being taken away from him, him choosing to live a celibate life in the clergy, shutting himself in a prison for the biggest part of his life... His self inflicted suffering just saddened me a lot deep down inside. He's also got big existential dread, wondering about the greater purpose of his life from his childhood. Isn't this something that touches everyone at some point?
But not many people have their entire beliefs about their existence and identity crushed at a young age in their life. Pucci, when his brother is found out to be alive, has everything that he built himself upon, his justification for being alive, completely shattered. It then turns into tragedy, yet he seems to find a little hope and comfort with Dio, only for them to be crushed again when he dies. And then he holds on to this impossible grief for 22 whole years, unable to accept that his fate in this world is to suffer so much loss. We don't see him sad after his sister died, we don't see him cry or flinch. Living his life in this manner, he surely had to have a lot of pent up emotion, which he surely dealt with by dissociating them from himself and pushing them onto Whitesnake. But not entirely, it's a little 'see-through'. When you think of it, he's amongst the most 'perfect' characters in the series, he's superior, composed, poised, tightly upkept, articulate. He has both an advantage in status and seniority in age over almost everyone in the part. He seems to be well adjusted and respected by people working in the prison, and in the city. Yet he's also very faillible, often prone to panic, he begs for his life at multiple times. Scenes like the frog scene where he slips and messes up the prime number count because there are frogs on his expensive pants make him reek of humanity when otherwise he could easily feel 'out of reach' and inhuman because of how superior he is (like let's say, Kars is, which is a lot of his appeal though!). Same when I recently discovered his watch is worth several thousand dollars. It felt like peeking into his true self right through the wall of righteousness that he built to protect himself and further the plan. His bad sides and inclination towards cardinal sins are really fun to watch and try to notice. That's also why I don't like when people pass him off as a good person, because to me he's really not, he wouldn't be half as interesting if he was! But he's not completely evil either, and as Weather tells him, being so sure that his evil is necessary for a greater purpose is what makes it even more heart breaking to me.
On top of that, his quirks and unique traits make him both very endearing and relatable, especially if you happen to have similar ones! In my case counting has been my primary means of shutting down anxiety attacks for years now, and when I saw him do it too, I automatically felt really drawn to him. Same goes for his ramblings in the worst moments, they made him really stand out, and I felt drawn to him because of some examples he used that hit close to my interests. If you've read my other analysis maybe you know that I tend to interpret him as autistic and so this hits close to home too. In the same manner, the fact that such a cool and powerful character grew up with a canon disability (in his foot) made me feel happy as a disabled person.
There are scenes where he expresses love and devotion very directly and in a raw way, which is very rare, and was also surprising because of how indirect he usually is to make a point... His love for Dio however you wish to interpret the nature of it is deep and sincere and rooted in both despair towards his impossible situation and the hope that maybe another miracle could occur and turn things around for him. I thought the evolution of the way he talks about Dio was really interesting and it moved me to see him very attached to his dear friend. Also the scenes with Dio let us see how sweet and interested he is when he's with someone he gets along with, and how different Dio behaved towards him made me like Dio a lot more too.
When I watched Stone Ocean I had just finished The Outer Wilds and FFXIV Endwalker, and in a way these 3 pieces of media hit the same nerve in me. I was thinking a lot about the purpose of existence and the end of the universe, so I really wanted Pucci to fulfill his potential and go as far as he could, taking the entire universe with him, breaking every rule of his world and becoming bigger than the story itself. It's still how I see him and why I admire him a lot. I was very shaken by his death and the part it played in the entire series. In a sense I get the feeling that he was obsessed with destiny because he knew he was created to do something, and he was right, he was created by Araki only to suffer his horrible backstory, to have everything taken from him. But his extraordinary inability to accept it pushed him to break the wall of the story and try to subtract himself from it, while opening everyone's eyes on the cruelty of the (fictional?) world they live in, and giving humanity the possibility to be at peace with it. The first time I saw the ending, I was completely crushed by the weight Araki put on him, making his total erasure from the world the only condition for everyone's life to suddenly become better, almost perfect. I was disgusted that it was expected from me to be happy that the world was finally rid of him when it all started with an impossible to predict chain of events. Now that I look back at the ending, I think maybe I misunderstood it, and I've decided to believe that he maybe was freed from the curse that was his existence in the story, and that he took upon him many of all the 'wrong' that was in the original world, making it all right for the other characters. I hope Perla is happy in the new universe... Even though this is probably just delusional coping...
Although I feel sorry for Pucci and wish he could have solved his problems differently, I'm glad the story is sad as it is because otherwise I wouldn't have felt so deeply for him. In a sense I felt his pain so strongly that I was instantly drawn emotionally to find a way to 'solve' his situation, he's like I tormented soul that I have to appease, and that's why I pick up a pen and draw, write, or spread love and wholesomeness. That's also why I draw him peaceful or sleeping most of the time, why I bring my plushie to see nice things 😔🫶 I also get a lot of different feelings coming from Araki's way of drawing him throughout the part, and I think Pucci was a character that Araki learned to love and understand along the way too, instead of liking him from the start like he did Dio or Jolyne, but he probably was a lot to handle even for him lol.
Jojo's been one of my favorite mangas for more than 7 years now and I'm so glad Pucci was the last boss for it, embodying and carrying in him the legendary Dio without being overshadowed by such a legendary character, while giving the story and Dio's character the last missing piece of the puzzle to truly tie things up nicely. Saying goodbye to him and to Stone Ocean after watching it also meant saying goodbye to the universe that I had loved and enjoyed for many years so it was bittersweet. In any case he's the peak, the climax, the strongest and has permanently changed the course of one of the best mangas in existence with his actions, and I take a lot of pride in my taste and the fact that my favorite character is the one who did all that haha 😫
And lastly I'd like to say that even if it's not really related to Pucci as a character, this last year that I've been active in fandom, liking him as pushed me to develop my skills, I started drawing, got back into writing, went on trips cause I wanted an excuse to bring him to the Louvre, go out of my way and explore new places when I made that collection of pictures representing the 14 words, made friends, I'm going to Japan soon and I'll be bringing him with me to meet them, he has fueled my imagination and given me more inspiration than I've ever felt, and I'm forever grateful for that. It is not easy nowadays to feel very intense positive emotions, life can be stressful and tiring, so I'm thankful that liking him has given me the push I needed to start doing many new things, interest myself in the wonders of the world, go to church, explore my city, go see art, travel, feed my mind with knowledge and beauty. Heck I even listened to that Handel's CD, it was wonderful. And read an essay on prime numbers when I have math dyslexia!?
I don't know how much deeper I can get without sounding completely off my rocker so I'll leave you guys here, hope you enjoyed and feel free to tell me how you relate to your favorite characters and how much they mean to you!
Fame redraw for illustration by me~
#enrico pucci#pucci#jjba#jojo's bizarre adventure#stone ocean#jojo#wild as fuck post#i might be crazy#as you can see i dont relate at all with being an obsessive person too /s
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Part 3 of:
Questions I have for PJO readers so I can verify if my headcanons have some accuracy in them:
Sorry. I'm having a religious identity crisis right now.
Did Bianca and Nico ever show sign of being Catholic/Christian?
There are a few things I know about what happened. I know that they moved from Italy to America to get away from the war. I know Hades was present in their lives for some time. I know that he offered Maria to keep them in the Underworld despite Persephone. I know how Maria died. I know they drank from the Lethe to forget what happened before they lived in the hotel.
I ask this question because I headcanon Bianca to be nonchalant about a lot of things.
I know that they were raised Christian because at the time, religion was a big deal. And I headcanon that Maria was a very religious woman and taught her children about religious teachings.
When Maria died and they were basically abandoned, Bianca questioned her faith in God and why bad things were happening to them. She ended up losing her faith and started to see things as if they weren't a big deal at all. Like she couldn't give less of a fuck about it if it didn't impact the whole of humanity.
Let's say that for some reason her faith didn't wash away when she drank from the Lethe.
If she lived, I think she would have refused to believe that their father was a God because then her suspicions would be true that everything she's been taught about God would have been a lie. Because instead of the loving God described to her, this God of a father they have abandoned them. She refused to believe that it was "for their safety" because she thinks that if their father really wanted them safe, he would have thought of another way.
"Bianca, please." Hades begged but Bianca turned her back and refused to listen. "I wanted to take you. I really did. But your mother..." his voice cracked at the thought of Maria di Angelo. "She wanted you to live up there. She wanted you to be able to live a normal life." he explained. "When she died, I couldn't risk you and your brother dying as well"
"So you left?" Bianca faced the God. "You thought it would be best to just drop us off to a hotel like you could just hand us over to someone else to take care of?! No one was even looking after us there! I had to look after Nico. I had to RAISE Nico to make sure he was healthy, and happy, and that he didn't feel alone!"
Hades looked at his daughter as tears brimmed her eyes, threatening to roll down her cheeks. "You call yourself a God when a God is supposed to look after you, and guide you, and love you!" She yelled "WHERE WERE YOU?"
"Bianca, I left you at that Hotel because it was the only place where I knew your safety would be guaranteed. Zeus wouldn't have been able to find you there, you'd be safe, and you'd be well taken care of. I couldn't bring you to the Underworld because it's not what your mother would have wanted."
"What she would have wanted was to have you raise us"
"I couldn't." Hades cried. "I couldn't have looked after you here in the Underworld. You would've been unhappy, and lonely, and depraved. You wouldn't have wanted it" he said. "This" he gestured to all around him. "This is Hell. This is what your mother was afraid where you'd end up. And she was right about how terrible it is and how terrible it would have been if you stayed here."
Bianca stared her father right in the eyes just as a tear rolled down her cheek.
"Then what difference would it have made?"
#pjo#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#bianca di angelo#hades#nico di angelo#headcanon#angst
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I know I should be working on other WIPs-- and just working in general-- but I watched The Old Guard again yesterday so here, have the Winnix TOG Canon Divergence AU
tw for: depictions of death, the effects of mustard gas, gore, trauma, and angst!
"Stop touching it."
Dick doesn't. In fact, just to be annoying-- though mostly on reflex-- he brushes past the newly formed scar of Lewis's brow one more time, prodding and poking until finally, fed up, Lew waves his hand away with a weak growl. "You'll open it back up."
Ah. That gets Dick to back off, pulling away abruptly like he'd been scalded. And maybe he has. After all, there's blood on his mind, now. A memory both too fresh to do anything but hurt; but a situation too resolved to feel anything but indignation at his own continued terror.
It's been nearly a millennia since the beginning of their renewed existence, and while they know their lot of second chances are bound to run out one day, surely the familiarity with Death should have settled in their old bones by now. Yet, when She comes, She brings with her all the fanfare that accompanies all finality. Almost immortality does not always warrant camaraderie with pain and grief.
They were luckier this time, at least.
They hadn't been as eager to join this war as they had been the last. Not that he'd been eager to join that war, either. But just like all things, Dick's need for a cause called out to Lewis' need to make sure Dick doesn't lose his goddamn mind fighting until he drops. And so, in the midst of the 1910s, they managed to find themselves spending long nights in the deep, damp French trenches, huddled together in the dark. For two and a half years, they lived like that, shaking apart with fear, both real and imagined, as the rats nibbled on their fingers and infections slowly overtook their lungs and toes. Any warrior worth their salt would know that it's not the fighting that fucks you over, but the waiting in between. The rotting wounds left to fester. The fear that threatened to eat you whole from within, if the bullets about you didn't get to you first. Together, they passed days watching their boys die, either from sickness or bullets or both, their corpses stacked around them so high, in the dark they looked like fortress walls, caging them in as they waited for the moment it would all come toppling down.
Then, the gas came pouring in.
Lewis had taken the brunt of it, in the end, ripping his gas mask off in a desperate attempt to save what was left of Dick's face. Neither of them had enough sense at the time to hear him scream in agony, clawing at his eyes until they were nothing but pulp underneath his fingernails; but the echoes of it would have a chance to ring in Dick's ears anyway. The screaming didn't stop in France.
And it took Lew years to regain his old self, in both nerves and sight; and it took even longer than that for Dick to stop dreaming of scar tissue, gnarled and twisted and angry red, in place of dark brown eyes. The damage healed a lot slower than either of them have ever experienced before, and required more outside help than either of them were comfortable with. By the time the last of Lewis' sight had been restored to him, a whole decade and several new identities had gone by, and Dick had done his best to promise: no more fighting.
They made it through another decade before he broke that one. It barely felt like a blink of an eye.
And now, here they are again. Huddled together, blanketed by dark night, with each other's blood once again under their fingernails, a new scar on Lewis' forehead, and the tangible memory of a crater in the back of his head, where the bullet found its exit and his brains had spattered out of his skull.
"Hey," Lewis breathes, sensing the dark turn Dick's thoughts have gone and reaching out for him, touching his face with cold fingertips. "I'm sorry. That was a bad joke."
Yes. It was. But Dick is not going to reprimand him for it. He's learned that jokes are Lew's best defense against the weight of their prolonged existence. Just like drink. Just like nicotine. Or just like Dick himself, his only lone companion in this casually cruel world. How could Dick ever deny him this?
Tilting their heads together, Dick guides his lips to the new scar, and resolutely tries not to think about how much longer Lew bears the marks of his deaths, and what that might mean for him. "It'll be gone tomorrow," he says, more to himself than Lew. "You'll see. Like brand new."
"Like brand new," Lewis echoes. Resigned. Going boneless as he leans all his (dead) weight into Dick's arms and buries his face in his neck. "Always brand new."
Even against the heat of Dick's skin, Lew stays cold. Dick doesn't think he's ever known a time when he was warm.
--
Dick and Lewis were made immortal sometime between 58 and 50BC, when Rome waged war against Gaul, as explained in this deleted line: "Lewis was not made for warrior-hood like Dick had been, having gone from the luxury afforded to him by his roman senator father's fortune to a miserable roman centurion on the back of a single mistake alone. He'd known almost nothing the first time he'd fallen under Dick's Gaulic blade; that his own sword had pierced Dick's chest at the same time was a mere fluke he's since been unable to replicate."
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ML Season 6 Wish Fulfillment Outline
This is never going to happen but its what I want to happen, so here's the gist:
Starts in media res like the first season, Akuma are causing trouble on Lila's behalf but are being easily handled by the team.
But if you look closely you can see a Red Akuma flittering in the background sometimes that fuses with the person post purification.
Marinette's life is basically perfect, old friends and new a boyfriend, no school bullies, its great.
We see that Lila's new identity has managed to weave her way into Marinette, Adrien, Kagami & Felix's circle.
When we see Lila operating its obvious she has an accomplice who is powering her up as Nathalie once did Gabriel for Heroes Day.
This person is Chloe, seemingly being controlled via the Amok-Bracelet from season one & described as "empty" by Lila.
Things start going off the wheels however when Lila 'finds out' about Kagami's Amok & questions if she really knows she loves Felix or not.
Kagami finds out that while Felix never commanded her to love him, he did make it so she had a rose tinted view of him. He offered to let her do the same to him. She Akumatized & thrashed him, causing his Miraculous to be taken.
To his nominal credit, Felix does accept he did a terrible thing and refuses to Akumatize over it to 'get his happy ending. This causes Marinette to realize that she can't keep hiding things from Adrien and reveals the truth.
Suffice to say, lots of drama, they are on break at best, Marinette does Akumatize but pulls out of it as she keeps getting flashes of stuff she feels bad about that undermines her sense of anger.
Lila delights in the suffering & its revealed she is actually Chameleon. Basically, Hawk Moth harassed her dreams with Akuma to prime her for Heroes Day but it led to an Akuma being born inside her that took over, now it wants god hood.
This is also where we find out, Chloe was the one who broke the Peacock when Audrey made her. Thank you @generalluxun which is also why her Amok doesn't let one command her, but merely makes her easier to Akumatize if one has it. Lila briefly freaks out but determines she & Kgamai who is now under her thrall, are 'empty. We see a gold & red Akuma vanish into her back.
Things continue to progress with escelating Kuma & Sentimonster attacks & also Adrien prodding into various bits of his life that confuse him.
He & Marinette are secretly attending therapy sessions, but the camera makes it seem like they are always alone rather than sometimes.
This includes finding out Jean cannot find where Chloe lives to send Mr Cuddles & Jean musing on caring more about her than either of her parents did given their Akuma to Zoe after she & Andre have their first fight from her acting overshadowing his film making skill.
We also find out after an Anance battle that Kim is indeed afraid of spiders & even Marinette has no idea what the hell the spider prank is about. Lila muses that was something she orchestrated in secret to further isolate Chloe & only she & Adrien had even been in that pool.
This is when the cast start putting together someone very deft is pulling the strings and there is likely more going on, putting Chameleon on the clock.
We see gold & red Akuma link with Caline, Jean, Sabrina, Felix, Marinette & Adrien in secret. Also Adrien via Plagg maybe discovering Chloe & Kagami have been captured in his own investigation, & while they get away its an important reveal.
Everything comes to ahead when Lila plans to reveal Marinette's lies about Gabriel to the whole world... & gets beaten to the punch by Ladybug telling the truth.
There's still enough anger to utilize but its not what she wanted, especially as hating Marinette/Ladybug is what keeps the Akuma going & without it she'll fade.
Lots of big battles with lots of Akuma & those with red & gold reveal themselves as basically harboring parts of Chloe & Kagami's psyche that are rebelling against Lila & want to help.
A big show of Marinette's growth is that she both trusts them and is willing to make a group plan, with a lot of emphasis placed on Adrien's contributions to the plan.
Especially as it involved him becoming Chat Blanc and attacking Ladybug to distract Lila & make her feel she's won. Though Rena is on back up with illusions.
An Akumatized & transformed Sabrina breaks into Chameleon's base with Lila's mothers when it seems like she's won & the Mega-Akuma activates, letting Lila split herself from Chameleon who is them protected by Nino.
We see the mothers searching for Lila in background scenes throughout the season.
Chameleon makes a last gasp attempt for the Miraculous, but the illusions drop & she gets sucker punched with Cataclysm the thousand butterflies that made her up being purified by a Mega Miracle Cure.
The final episode is basically falling action showing the next year taking place, covering stuff like:
Marinette & Adrien's therapy sessions & the emphasis on the idea of being happy on one's own terms over someone else's.
The Kwami all spoiling their finally returned siblings as well as a subtly resolution with Chloe & Pollen.
New shows demonstrating how Hawk Moth manipulated the likes of Chloe & Lila to help sway public opinion.
Lila re-integrating into society.
The rich kids with shitty parents divorcing them to thunderous applause.
Jean taking over the hotel.
Marinette & Chloe's resolution, with Chloe conceding it wasn't the other girls job to salvage her & Marinette saying she has a better idea of how someone could choose to do things they know are bad for love.
A lot of minor fun things showing emerging dynamics like study and gaming sessions ETC.
Finally it caps off in the park where the statue of Gabriel has been replaced by a giant glowing dance floor. XY, Nino, Jagged Stone & Kitty Section are performing at the first annual Kwami Family Reunion Celebration.
We see more stuff, like Chloe & Kagami seemingly being together & talking with Juleka. Zoe and Lila dancing to the music. Kwami celebrating and chilling with people. Felix & Sabrina engaging in a spirited debate. The Guardian Monks doing a choreographed dance.
Then cap off with Marinette & Adrien taking five away from the party to talk and decide to give it another go. No secret identities, no secrets and not no surprises as both reveal a present for the other.
& that's how I'd handle that!
#Miraculous Ladybug#Miraculous Ladybug Season 6#Outline#text post#If its not obvious Jean is Chloe & Zoe's new legal guardian.#Mr Lee does come up though & is address#Also Chloe gets resolution with Miss Bustier#& the Queen Mayor & Banana stuff is laid at Chameleon's feet#Adrien plays a more central role in this that it signifies cos its technically a mystery story#Also he & Chloe get some resolution but I couldn't squeeze it into the outline#But yeah#All the kids get a happy ending#Even if they fucked up they get the chance to do and be better#Also Chlogami hints cos I know my preferences#marinette dupain cheng#adrien agreste#chloe bourgeois#lila rossi#Akuma#Sentimonster
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A little bit of a rant but I really don't like it when non-Captain Boomerang try to portray Captain Boomerang as this like cold hearted, stone cold killer. I understand why it could possibly appear that way to someone who knows absolutely nothing about Captain Boomerang, outside of this one character in 2 different comics, but like as a fan of him, it's getting annoying to see people act like he goes around murdering people on purpose. Hero or not. Presumably he'd probably be more uncomfortable with killing children or teenagers.
"But what about Hack???" I hear no one yelling but just to cover all of my bases... HE CANONICALLY FELT LIKE SHIT AFTER THAT!!! He literally states "I can't believe I just did that" with a clear look of shock, and possibly horror, on his face. He literally cannot believe he killed someone. But he feels that he has to because he's "the bad guy." And bad guys kill people. That's what they do so he feels that in order to be a good criminal, he has to kill, even if he fuckin hates it. Even if he feels bad about it.
And not too much longer after this, Harley notices that it's eating away at him. She doesn't know what specific, but she knows he's distressed about something. So she asked if he was okay.
His response is very telling, "... I did a bad thing, Quinn." He looks so guilty about the whole thing. It's also clearly meant to sound like he genuinely feels bad about what he's done.
"What about Jack Drake" I hear probably no one asking still, but just in case, again, covering all my bases here. This is a bit more of a complicated thing. Especially considering the fact that the comics was written 15 years ago by this point but it's recently come to people's attention as a result of a new comic called Robin: Knight Terrors, where issue 5 of Identity Crisis is referenced in issue 1 of Knight Terrors: Robin.
I want to make something very clear. Knight Terrors isn't meant to be taken absolutely literally. It is simply exploring character's fears through the lense of a character's nightmares while at the same time trying to tie it to this new villain, Insomnia or whatever his name is.
These aren't meant to be taken as what literal canon events. These don't accurately portray what happened in the slightest. These are just Tim's perspective on the events, combined with the trauma that Tim Drake received because of his father being murdered.
First thing I'd like to point out, no words were said at all. Captain Boomerang literally didn't even see it coming until it was too late. He was only really there to break in, steal stuff, and leave. Still not necessarily something Captain Boomerang would do, he's more of a bank robber kind of guy. This is something well established but I don't want to waste everyone's time showing every single time he's robbed a bank or a jewelry store or convenience stor. Cuz that's what Captain Boomerang does. He steals from establishments, not individuals.
In Identity Crisis, Captain Boomerang is literally falling over after being shot 3 times in the chest as he's throwing the boomerang at Jack Drake. Jack Drake fired first. It was not Captain Boomerang's intention to kill anyone here. Cuz that's not what Captain Boomerang does. He doesn't kill unless he's trying to defend himself or he feels like he has to. He's not a killer.
To add to this, in issue 6 of Identity Crisis, Tim literally did not get there until after his father was dead for some time. He did not witness the events that took place at all. Knight Terrors: Robin is based on how Tim would view the situation though a nightmarish lense by having his father die essentially on loop.
In short, Captain Boomerang is a thief, not a killer. He doesn't kill unless he feels it's necessary for one reason or another. He's still a bad guy, I understand that, but he's not murdering people at random and I'm kinda tired of hearing people thinking that that's his thing. Cuz believe it or not, Hack and Jack Drake are literally the only 2 examples I have for Captain Boomerang that aren't specifically part of a Suicide Squad assassination mission. Which if you don't know anything about the Suicide Squad, they literally have to do so or their head gets blown off. I guess technically Hack was killed cuz Harcourt and Captain Boomerang are working for The People, an organization trying to be just like the Suicide Squad, so presumably, the brain bomb situation still applies here, but on the other hand it established that I guess he volunteered or something like that? But my point still stands. He's existed since at least December of 1960, the publication date of his first appearance.
If Captain Boomerang was an actual killer, you would have definitely heard about it by now.
And I haven't even gotten into the fact that, at least like... 10 years ago or whatever, that Flash Rogues kinda have a code against killing and doing drugs and such. And Captain Boomerang is a Flash Rogue. It's not really physically shown anymore, but he still is. I mean just look at Aquaman and The Flash: Voidsong, issue 1. Right there, he's back with the Rogues.
And even then, this isn't the best interpretation of the Rogues. Because contrary to popular belief, they don't kill Speedsters. This is yet another one of their established rules. They just don't kill. It's not at all what they do.
I feel like a broken record having to explain this time and time again. Because these guys are riddled with writers who just don't understand them. Writers often just use them as Bad Guy Numbers 1 through 15 or whatever, despite the fact that they are Flash's (at least Barry's anyway) main villains. And all they do is rob from banks mostly. Maybe a jewelry store. They don't go out of their way to murder people for no reason, even during a robbery. They don't go out of their way to kill heroes for no reason. I don't even think they've gone out of their way to even fight the Flash for any reason. He just shows up when the commit crimes. That's it. They aren't trying to kill him. They aren't trying to actually put people in danger. It's not what they do. And once again. Captain Boomerang is still one of them. Therefore he's not doing any of those things either.
This honestly wasn't necessary to explain, but I feel the need to share by perspective as a Captain Boomerang fan. There seems to be a Captain Boomerang Misconception™ that I've kinda witnessed within the Captain Boomerang tags alone with a bit of discussion involving Knight Terrors: Robin from Tim Drake fans in particular and Captain Boomerang isn't portrayed very will in comics about Tim Drake.
#captain boomerang#george harkness#digger harkness#jack drake#tim drake#idk does anyone want me to add any other tags???#I'm not used to putting characters that aren't Captain Boomerang or Riddler in the tags so idk what people would want me to tag tim with#tw blood#cw blood#blood#Do I tag the other Flash Rogues as well???#I know they're in the one image but this post isn't about them so much as Captain Boomerang is one of them#And even then that's not what this post is about#This post is about the fact that Captain Boomerang doesn't go out of his way to kill people#Hero or bystander he's just not going to murder them#long post#tw Captain Boomerang#cw captain boomerang#Last to tags for all the Tim Drake fans who are triggered by Captain Boomerang
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