#might write a second part
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Here's a little snippet from a tattoo shop/bakery au that i got kinda stuck on and i dont know if ill ever finish.
some context: Chrissy and Eddie are best friends that live in different states, Eds is taking two weeks off work for Chris' visit, he won't be at his tattoo shop which means he won't see the cute baker from next door
Chrissy's in the middle of answering and he's stretching his arms above his head when they hear the front door opening and the little bell above it chiming.
Eddie left the sign up front switched to "CLOSED", which can only mean-
"Eds?" Steve calls into the studio
Eddie immediately gets up from his seat and goes to meet him at the lobby, missing Chrissy's surprised look.
"Hiya, Stevie." he greets, bumping his knuckles against the front counter where Steve is standing just to the side of it.
He's secretly been hoping Steve would stop by just so he could see him. Just so he could hear his voice one last time before he has to go on for days without it.
Steve looks good too, in a plain white shirt, his blue apron and the absolute best pair of lightwash jeans in the whole entire world (if you're asking Eddie).
"I thought I saw you come in" Steve says, "You've been here for hours and you didn't come by to get breakfast, so i brought you this" he lifts the tray in his hands.
There's a mug with coffee, several sugar packets and two chocolate croissants.
"Aw, Steve, you didn't have to" Eddie says, genuinely touched. His heart flutters even though this is typical of Steve. He's just the sweetest.
"Oh, stop it," Steve protests, sounding bashful "these are from yesterday, I can't sell them" he says, placing the tray on the counter. A blush colors his cheeks and Eddie smiles, he looks so pretty.
Eddie knows by now how a pastry looks when it's fresh. He can't be fooled anymore.
It's been so long of them doing this dance though, and Eddie knows if he mentions it Steve will just get embarrassed, so he keeps his mouth shut about it.
"Well, they look really good." Eddie says instead "Thank you, sweetheart" he adds softly, his eyes drawn to the pink blooming on Steve's cheeks and focusing on the flour smeared across Steve's nose. He wants to kiss it and get flour all over his lips.
Eddie leans towards the tray and breaks away a piece of croissant, taking a bite.
Yep. Either Steve made these this morning or he's got magic abilities.
" 'M sure gonna miss these" Eddie says around his mouthful, gesturing with the bit of pastry still in his hand.
"Ugh, don't remind me," Steve groans "the shop already feels dull today"
Eddie laughs softly "You flatterer" he accuses
"Just trying to get you to visit" Steve defends, leaning against the counter and into Eddie's personal space to tap the rim of Eddie's reading glasses.
"Like I could stay away from your shop" Eddie says, tries his best not to sound breathless. He thinks he fails, and he must be blushing too, judging by how Steve's eyes are roaming his face.
"Good. Cause we need the business this month" Steve jokes.
That makes Eddie snort and laugh, Steve's shop is filled to the brim with costumers at least twice a day, five days a week.
Steve smiles at him again and then he peers around Eddie.
"Oh, hi!" Steve greets, straightens up and waves a little.
Eddie turns to see Chrissy leaning against the lobby partition, observing with her arms crossed.
Fuck.
"Chriiisssyyyy!" Eddie draws, and she narrows her eyes suspiciously "C'mere!" Eddie soldiers on,
Chrissy eyes him warily but walks to the counter and smiles sweetly at Steve, "Hi!" she greets "I'm Chrissy."
Steve's eyes widen "Of course! Eddie was picking you up today! I'm Steve, it's nice meeting you!"
He's such an angel, Eddie wants to cry.
"Likewise, Steve. I'm so sorry, I don't think Eddie's mentioned you yet" Chris says, but directs it to Eddie, glaring at him.
Eddie's about to answer, offended, but gets stuck on Steve's crestfallen expression for a split second and then Steve beats him to it.
"Oh, it's okay" Steve says, his smile reappearing, "I own the bakery next door" he supplies.
"He brought croissants!" Eddie tries to redirect "The best croissants in the state I'd say" he offers, succeeding in lightening Steve's mood again, judging by the twinkle in his eye.
Satisfied, Eddie asks Chris "D'you want one?"
Chrissy looks at him weird but mutters "sure" and grabs the one still whole.
"Well!" Steve exclaims, softly clapping his hands against his sides,
"I was just dropping these by, I won't take up any more of your time." Steve says "Chrissy it was really nice meeting you, I hope you have a great time in our town."
He turns to Eddie then and reaches out to squeeze his arm "And Eds, I hope you get lots of rest during your break. And visit us." he adds, moving his hand up to softly pull on a stray bit of hair that fell off Eddie's bun "The place won't be the same without you"
Eddie deflects so he doesn't melt under his gaze.
"I'm not dying, Stevie." he says, grabbing him by the shoulders and bodily turning him around as Steve softly laughs.
Judging by how his own cheeks are burning, Eddie's sure that he's the exact shade of a ripe tomato.
"I'll be back before you know it." Eddie adds, and with that, he gets Steve out the door.
Steve turns to say "You better" to Eddie. And once again, he peers around him to wave his fingers at Chrissy "Bye!" he says.
Sweetheart.
Eddie forces himself to not watch him walk the few steps between their shops.
When he turns back to his best friend he's relieved to see she's not glaring at him anymore.
She's got chocolate in the corner of her mouth and she's nodding.
"These are really good" Chrissy says, lulling Eddie into a false sense of safety.
He walks towards her to pick up and continue eating his own croissant, but as soon as he's within reach, Chris smacks the back of her hand against his bicep.
"OW!" Eddie protests, leaning against the counter and rubbing his arm.
She's been an athlete ever since they were in middle school together and she's never pulled her punches with him, it's a big part of why he loves her so much.
"You never told me you had a boyfriend!" she accuses, her mouth still full.
#''here's a lil snippet'' i say‚ as i hand you one thousand words 😬#steddie#steveddie#steddie headcanon#so. i have a clear outline for this one but somehow it just feels... awkward? idk im not sure whats missing#i think part of it is I keep second guessing Chris and Robin on it. I might have to write them separately for a bit to get the hang of em#before coming back to this#anyways. as always this might be#ooc#so. watch out. lol#stranger things#.
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Prompt 53. "I'm flirting with you!" Part Two
A follow up to This Post
@happymediummm I promise the answer to your ask will be up soon in part three!!
Eddie stews in his room for three days following the incident at Steve's house.
Wayne attempts to coax him out with food and coffee, even opening up the pack of bacon they'd been saving in the freezer, anything to try and get Eddie to talk to him.
"I'm just worried s'all," he says softly from Eddie's doorway on the third day, his expression pinched in that way Eddie hates, "you should go out, do something, come on".
Wayne claps his hands together and disappears for a moment only to return with a tape case from the living room.
"Wayne, no--"
"It's overdue Eds, just bring it back for me would ya?"
Eddie groans into his hands at the triumphant expression on his uncle's face as he gets up from his bed and tugs on his leather jacket.
"Since your friends work there," Wayne says brightly, gesturing with the tape as he hands it over to Eddie, "you should see if they waive the late fee for us".
"I agreed to take it back, not talk to people," Eddie grumbles under his breath as Wayne shakes his head and gives his shoulder a squeeze.
"At least you won't be growing mold anymore, sitting there in the dark," Wayne says with a wink, ignoring the indignant scoff Eddie makes.
"Store closes in a half hour kid, you better hurry!"
Shit.
Eddie grumbless petulantly as he hurries out the door, ignoring the way Wayne compares his groans to a haunted house door.
He doesn't smile at the jib, and it doesn't make him laugh for the first time in days as he gets into the van, it doesn't!
The parking lot of Family Video is empty, but what did he really expect on a Wednesday at half past eight in the evening.
The Open sign is still on at least but the low lights in the building and the bright copper glare of the sunset make it so much more difficult to see who is working tonight.
He could just toss the tape into the return slot and wait out the late fees, he's sure another video store will eventually open up in Hawkins, they can take their business there.
Eddie sighs heavily as he shuts off the van and yanks out the key, "dammit Wayne," he mutters under his breath as he gets out and makes his way to the door.
Eddie winces at the sharp jingle of the bell above the door and looks around, his head on a swivel, looking for any sign of Steve and his big, stupid, hair.
Robin waves from the counter as Eddie spots her, she's grinning at him with a sly look on her face as she leans against the counter, the multiple buttons and pins on her vest clink against the glass surface.
"There he is," Robin crows, drumming the counter, "I was beginning to think Steve had kidnapped you or something, were you allowed out for good behavior?"
She seems to realize what she had just implied and winces, shaking her head as Eddie snorts mirthlessly.
"Uh, no, I just came to return this for my uncle," Eddie mumbles, keeping his eyes level with the counter rather than Robin's eyes.
She frowns at him, taking the tape he slides across the counter and scanning it without dropping her gaze.
"What's with you?" She says suspiciously.
Robin drums her fingers lightly against the counter, as the large computer beeps acknowledging the return.
"Nothing, tired," Eddie shrugs, he's not about to tell Robin about what happened, though it is weird that she doesn't already know?
Maybe she wasn't in on it, he can't imagine that Buckley would approve of a prank like that on another 'friend of Dorothy' but she was Steve's best friend first and foremost.
A song comes on over the small Family Video speakers, humming in the background.
'All I wanna do when I wake up in the morning is see your eyes
Rosanna, Rosanna…'
Robin wrinkles her nose, her eyes traveling towards one of the large speakers in the corner before looking back to Eddie, a large grin in place.
"God this sappy shit, I told Steve not to put this one on the tape, you must hate Toto".
Eddie shrugs again, glaring at the floor, wishing he could burn a hole into it that he could escape through.
"He did play it…didn't he?" Robin asks quietly, a small trace of anxiety in her voice as she leans away from the counter.
Eddie stops himself from rolling his eyes; if he was being honest, the tape was a nice touch --really sold the whole prank, honestly.
He looks back up to find Robin staring at him, and sighs heavily, thrusting his hands in his pockets.
"Yeah," he huffs, taking a step back towards the front door, Robin's eyes follow his path in confusion, "I wasn't much of a fan of the choices".
"But it's fine right," Eddie scoffs, "he can use his little tape on someone his shit will actually work on next time".
"What?" Robin says incredulously, her face scrunches into a frown as Eddie laughs.
"You know Buckley, I'm surprised you were on board with this?"
"Eddie, what the fuck are you talking about?" Robin hisses, shrill and loud, as she finally walks around the counter towards him.
"Oh don't give me that, he's your best friend, you're going to tell me he didn't tell you about his plan?" Eddie shakes his head as a high pitched laugh bubbles up out of his chest.
"I don't know what plan you're talking about Eddie," she says in a low voice, her eyes wide and angry, "the only thing Steve was going to do that night was tell you how he felt about you".
"Yeah right, Steve Harrington, wants me? And that's not a fucking joke?"
She sucks her teeth, letting her eyes roam over his face, "this was such a mistake, okay, get out".
Eddie sneers sharply, "a mistake?"
"Yeah, I never should have gotten his hopes up".
Robin crosses to the window behind the counter and shuts off the second neon open sign before breezing past Eddie to pull the cord on the other sign, nearly hard enough to yank it down.
No, no, no, no, it's not true, she's just saving face, she has to be…
Robin stands beside the door, a furious glare aimed at Eddie, "we're closed, get out, I need to go check on Steve".
Unbelievable, Eddie does roll his eyes at this and heads towards her for the door, he takes the push bar in his hands and leans on it to swing the exit open before turning to Robin one last time, he wants so badly to have the last word it hurts.
"Better go check on King-Steve, I'm sure he's devastated," Eddie snarls, the furious fire from before burns bright in his chest as he watches Robin stiffen in the doorway.
"I haven't talked to him since Sunday Munson, until just now, I thought he was with you!"
Robin reaches out to grab both doors in her hands.
"Asshole," she scoffs, her eyes never leaving his as she locks the doors in his face.
***
1980, Hawkins, Indiana
Eddie sniffles as he walks home, he can feel blood trickle down his chin from the split lip Paul gave him while his knee aches from where he hit the ground.
He's not even sure what he did.
Paul had been so nice recently, talking with Eddie almost every day, eventually taking him under his wing. Paul was a year above Eddie at their Middle school, and when he had told Eddie to meet him under the bleachers after school, how could Eddie say no?
It didn't help that Paul had soft blond hair, big hazel eyes that crinkled when he smiled, and the nicest laugh Eddie had ever heard.
What Eddie hadn't been expecting was Randy and David, also in Paul's grade, to be waiting for him.
He breathes out a wet sob and keeps walking, scrubbing his face harshly as their trailer in Forest Hills comes into view, almost home.
Eddie reaches into his pocket and winces when he realizes his keys are gone, alongside his backpack.
They must have fallen out of his pocket in the scuffle.
The backpack was a different story.
He limps up the steps of their porch, wincing as the fabric of his jeans pulls at the drying blood on his knee, and knocks on the front door.
"Comin," Wayne calls from inside, "coming, wasn't expectin' anyone-- Ed?"
Wayne's face goes through a series of expressions, from surprise, to anger, before settling on concern.
He leans down and brings his hands up to Eddie's face, turning it gently to see the damage.
"Who did this," Wayne says quietly, he stands up to his full height, looking around the trailer park behind Eddie while tucking him closer.
"It was at school," Eddie sniffles again, his voice growing tight, "I'm okay".
Wayne looks down at him for a moment before shaking his head and moving out of the door to pull Eddie inside.
"Hurt anywhere else?" Wayne asks as he walks Eddie to the kitchen, one arm around his shoulder as though afraid the fourteen year old will collapse at any moment.
"I fell, my knee hurts," Eddie mumbles as he sits at the kitchen table in the corner while Wayne crosses to the cabinets and busies himself with grabbing two clean wash clothes and peroxide from the cupboard above their stove.
It's quiet for a moment while Wayne wets one of the clothes at the sink and makes his way back to Eddie.
He kneels on the floor, balancing his weight on his good knee while the other remains bent at a more comfortable ninety degree angle. His joints creak slightly as he gets comfortable but he still smiles at Eddie all the same.
"Won't you be sore after this?" Eddie sighs, wishing Wayne would just let him go to the washroom now to clean himself up.
"You let me worry about that," Wayne grumbles as he reaches up to wipe the blood and dirt from Eddie's face with the wet cloth. It's warm from the water and Wayne's gentle hand.
"So, you gonna tell me what happened?" Wayne asks softly, as he reaches for the bottle of peroxide and tips it into the second cloth. He tilts Eddie's face to dab gently at the now dirt free cuts.
Eddie sucks his teeth at the sting and closes his eyes.
He doesn't even know where to really start.
Paul hadn't been the one to push him off his feet, that had been Randy, but that hadn't stopped Paul from laughing and calling Eddie a fairy.
David had been the one to take his bag, dumping everything out into the dirt and ripping it until the zipper broke.
Luckily all of his school books were still in his locker, but all of the campaign notes from his most recent D&D game had been in there, along with the worn copy of the Hobbit his mother had given him.
All of it was still sitting in the mud and grass by the bleachers, stomped into the ground by David's white sneakers.
Eddie shrugs as Wayne leans back slightly. He takes Eddie's leg and slowly bends the knee at the joint, his eyes search Eddies for any sign of strain. The only sting comes from the way the jean material pulls at the drying blood from his scrapes.
Wayne breathes out and scrubs a hand over his tired face, his fingers catch on the grey stubble as they slide down and drop into Wayne's lap.
"I'll make an appointment on Monday with the principal," Wayne says as he stands up with a stifled groan, turning away from Eddie who shakes his head like a wet dog.
"Wayne you can't--"
"Edward, what do you expect me to do? You come home lookin' like hell and you won't tell me what happened?"
Eddie bites his split lip hard enough for the faint taste of copper to stain his tongue once more, how could he tell Wayne just what those boys had yelled at him as he sat in the dirt cradling his head, wishing he'd just gone home.
Wayne sighs loudly as he raises his face towards the ceiling, his lips move slightly but Eddie can't make out what he's saying before he looks back at Eddie, his expression worn.
"Okay, okay," Wayne murmurs, walking back towards Eddie, he pulls one of the other mismatched chairs towards himself and sits down, "I won't call, but you have to meet me halfway, alright?"
Eddie hesitates, swallowing roughly, maybe there was a way to tell Wayne without telling him everything.
"There were some boys at school, um," Eddie picks at one of the holes in his blue jeans, pulling at the frayed thread absently, "I guess just, one at first but…".
His eyes burn suddenly as the words rip through him once again.
"He told me to come to the bleachers and then," Eddie's voice wobbles this time as his throat tightens, "there were more of them and they…called me--"
Eddie shakes his head, ducking it down to hide his shining eyes, he doesn't notice Wayne coming closer until he feels a hand in his hair and the dam finally breaks.
Six years later, Eddie can still remember what his uncle told him that day as he cried in his arms.
"People can be cruel, especially when they don't understand, and sometimes that means being careful of who you open yourself up to. But you can tell me anything Ed, and I'll love ya no matter what. You always have home to come back to".
Eddie knew people like Steve Harrington. He'd been around them his whole life.
Sometimes they went by Paul, sometimes by Jason, or Billy.
But that didn't make them any less dangerous, any less capable of inflicting hurt on people that were different.
So, Robin could say that Steve wasn't like that until she was blue in the face, because she was…wrong…
Wasn't she?
Taglist: @ihavekidneys @superchellerific @zerokrox-blog @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @croatoan-like-its-hot @messrs-weasley @samcoxramblings @warlordess @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @lostonceandneverfound @shunna @fairytalesreality
Part Three now up!
#beep boop misunderstandings again#steddie#unrequited love or is it#mutual pining#steve harrington#eddie munson#afewproblems writes#stranger things#now we are getting into some plot#I can't write anything short im my own worst enemy#sigh#we love a supportive wayne in this house#we love a protective robin in this house#we might need a playlist for this guy#part three will be up soon answering the second prompt: I need you to forgive me#angst with a happy ending I promise
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Peacock Au Part 1
Okay so Big Huge credit to @stealingyourbones for letting me do my own take on their amazing eldritch Danny idea!!!! This started out as me just doing a drawing but then I ended up with a whole DPxDC fic that I'll be posting the part two for at some point!!! Anyway, here's the vague designs:
And here's the part one of the fic under the cut!!! :D
(Edit: Part 2 is Here!!)
There’s a Lazarus Pit forming underneath Gotham. Normally, this would not concern John Constantine at all, because it’s Gotham, therefore Bat territory therefore not his problem, and honestly he has his own things to worry about. Unfortunately for him, however, the infamous Dark Knight has somehow gotten it into his head that he can do something about it and, Hell, he’d said it would be a ‘big favour’, which meant the man really must be desperate; had to have been in the first place, he supposed, to have even bothered with John in the first place.
Still, he’d almost kind of forgotten what a huge mess any kind of favour for Batman could be, and thus, he now holds possession of a book that is probably going to get him killed.
Whether the actual book itself wants to kill him is up for debate, but Constantine has read the contents of this particular Book of Summonings and nothing in here seems remotely safe. He’s absolutely going to be hiding this away somewhere deep in the archives of the archives of the Justice League watchtower with an incredibly pointed ‘DO NOT TOUCH’ on it once he’s done with this, but for now, it’s the only thing he’s got in the way of sorting out this Pit problem.
There’s an entity that exists, this book claims, that keeps the balance between realms. ‘Closes doors’, apparently, and the doors the pages depict certainly look like a Lazarus Pit. This is brilliant news, obviously, but the book doesn’t describe the entity itself at all beyond that; barely any of the other entries are as vague as this, and that plus some of the frankly bizarre sigils he’s having to draw to summon the damn thing are giving him no comfort. The only remotely comforting thing about it is that the ritual doesn’t require any blood- which either means the entity is benign, or it wants something more valuable than blood.
…Okay, maybe not that comforting, actually.
But, before he can consider that maybe this wasn’t his best idea and backing out would be for the best, the sigils flare with light, and Constantine squints to keep track of the way they activate, desperate for any indication of what he’s managed to summon with that stupid book.
His feet feel feathery against the ground, like they’re barely tethered by gravity and just waiting to float away, and perhaps the seeming lack of atmosphere is fitting with how dust like stars lift from the summoning circle, bringing with them intercepting layers of purple-blue-pink-white, galaxies and nebulae being peeled off the floor. It comes with a sound- something whistling, almost. Seeming hollow, between a shriek and a bell ringing, or maybe more musical than that. It seems to change every moment he tries to focus on it, as if it’s something his ears can’t really hear but his brain is desperate to process, painful to try.
And then, the entity begins to form.
Unnoticeably at first, a white glow drifts forming in the centre. It congeals as Constantine’s gaze finally fixates on it, layers forming like jellyfish trails, or flowers, or peacock feathers with runic circles at the tips, fading smaller and smaller as they reach the centre, and a thing akin to a body unfolds into view at the front, a centrepiece. A child’s image of a shadow in opalescence, a strange curving feature where a neck might be, and searing-green spots of varying sizes scattered along the space where cheeks and eyes could’ve been, fading up and down across the lower-half of the ‘face’ and into the ‘hair’. He barely understands what he’s looking at, but maybe that’s the point.
The sound of a thunderstorm rings across the room, and the curve of the neck unfolds, and it’s an eye, and the tips of a thousand twisted, cosmic peacock feathers become eyes as well, if they weren’t always. They move, wavering, either lashing or flickering from visibility.
“And what is this?” The voice is a kaleidoscope, echoing off and from every corner of the room, and when they speak, infinite eyes become infinite mouths, too many teeth barely contained by the edges of what seem vaguely like frostbitten lips. To have something even remotely human suddenly etch itself onto the entity is somehow worse than the parts he can’t comprehend. “Who are you, to have summoned me, and seem so afraid?”
Constantine wishes, maybe for the first time, that it hadn’t been an obligation to do this alone; he’s never wanted Batman or one of the Light members with him more than now. It’s a difficult thing, almost impossible, to shake off the speechlessness. It’s a wonder that it’s possible at all, with how the room seems to have been twisted into a vacuum. “I was told you could- you could help with the pits?”
“The pits. There are many pits.”
God, this is creepy. “The Lazarus pits to, uh, to be specific. There’s a huge one cropping up under Gotham that’s not supposed to be there, and the local- I mean, the locals are getting antsy about it. …I heard you can take care of them.”
“I can smell its blood between the gaps of atmosphere, encircling. You, whose soul is bound in so many directions, who may be pulled apart like meat in time- can you sense it? Does it draw you?” John doesn’t know how this- this thing knows that, but he’s scared asking will invoke some kind of consequence, and more and more he’s wondering why the Hell he decided to do Batman this favour. He feels exposed.
“Uh… no, I don’t think so. But can you fix it?”
“Yes.”
“…Will you fix it?”
The chill is getting to him. Goosebumps are running across his arms like a livewire, and he’s never doing anyone a favour ever again. The entity makes an approximation of a hum, his ears shriek with whale song and stars, and after a pause, everything switching up and down on itself, the peacock eyes form into huge, reaching hands. For a second, Constantine’s whole body freezes with terror, because he’s petrified the thing’s going to grab him, but then the arms tumble phasing into the ground, and the green spots on their ‘face’ flare with a supernova glow and they make another piercing noise, chiming or trilling.
A long moment later, the hands slowly return to the entity’s back, and fade into the peacock feathers or jellyfish bells or whatever they were before, blinking at him. “It is gone.”
“Uh… cheers?”
“It will not return, but this place shall see its dead for some time. Try not to look.”
This is maybe the worst day of Constantine’s life. “Can I- uh, yeah, great advice. ‘Appreciate it. But, can I ask just, y’know, what you are? Or not.”
“That is up to you.” They say, and though the eyes that appear briefly between sentences bely or reveal no expression, it feels scrutinising. “What is it that closes doors? Is it alive?”
He hates riddles. He hates riddles and he hates cosmic horrors and he hates eldritch entities and he hates Batman for getting him to agree to this horrible favour. He wants to go back to the House of Mystery and pass out for long enough that this whole thing becomes a dream. “Fair enough! Forget I asked- cheers for sorting out that pit, though. Uh, don’t suppose you’ll just let me go on my way or anything now.”
“I know of your Bat.”
Oh dear. Constantine’s stomach sinks like a shipwreck into the Mariana Trench, but the entity moves on like they’d never even said it. “I will recede, and find you in time, perhaps both. You will know when I am coming, and I will find my recompense.”
And just like that, their whole form shimmers into clouds and pearls and smoke and mirrors, and they fade back into the runes that summoned them like tap water down the drain. The galaxies they’d formulated within the confines of the room fold back in on themselves and turn to whispers and then nothing, but the feeling persists on his skin long after weight has settled back onto his bones. He hadn’t known a thing like that existed until now. He doesn’t know what it can do, doesn’t know how all-encompassing it truly is.
And he owes it a favour.
Crap.
#I'll be posting the part two at some point soon since it's already written out so prepare for that lmao!!#Warning that there might be some mistakes in here since I literally just wrote this and the second part a couple hours ago#This is a Little bit of a thing about my hc on the Ghost Monarchy and how it isn't Actually a monarchy#It's just that the 'king' keeps the actual physical balance of the GZ (ie natural portal stuff) & the title originally had a different name#But when Pariah Dark took the mantle he decided it made him the ruler of the GZ and that's why the Ancients took him down#But I'll talk more abt that if I ever get around to finishing that GZ culture/history/evolution post thing I had planned lmao!!!!#Either way I Love Eldritch Danny sm and writing this was so so fun!!!#Part two will be from Danny's perspective!!!#I might colour those drawings and stuff at some point but for now I like them as they are!!!#Also before I forget I Am still thinking about that pizza delivery guy pt. 2 I just got stuck a bit!!! It'll hopefully appear at some point#dp au#danny phantom au#dpxdc#john constantine#danny phantom fanart#dp fanart#danny phantom#Bongo's Aus!!!#Bongo's Writing!!!#Bongo's Art!!!#tw body horror#peacock au
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For angstfest! I'm a little late, but here's one for a No One Knows AU.
They’re already moving as soon as he’s gone.
Tucker grabs Danny’s legs while Sam picks up Danny beneath his arms and shoulders. He’s long past the point of being embarrassed about Sam being stronger than him, and they have to move fast as they drag Danny’s body into an empty classroom nearby. He mutters curses under his breath as the heavy classroom door bounces off his side, and Sam huffs and rolls her eyes. “Drama queen,” she accuses, and he sticks his tongue out at her as they carry Danny’s body the rest of the way inside and the door shuts with a too-loud slam behind them.
But they’re not worried about the noise attracting attention. Most of the students are staying within their own classrooms, ignoring whatever odd sounds they might hear as the ghost alarm goes off in the background. The harsh, blinking lights cast odd shadows on Danny’s face, making Tucker queasy for a minute as they prop his body up against the wall below the whiteboard.
“How long?” he asks, panting heavily and trying to catch his breath.
“Two minutes and forty-five seconds,” she says with a grin as she sits down next to him. “Pretty sure that’s a new record.”
“Nah, we did it in two minutes and thirty-eight seconds last month, remember?” he says as he sits down beside her and starts to unpack his backpack. The defibrillator is buried at the bottom, tucked beneath his things. It’s the smallest one they could find that’s still effective, even if they’re not exactly using it for its intended purpose, and Sam carries another just in case. For a normal person, it wouldn’t be possible to restart their heart and lungs with an electric shock, despite what the movies claim, but for Danny? Electricity is the only thing that works, the only thing that will bind his spirit back to his corpse as it infuses and activates the ectoplasm flooding his blood stream.
The Fentons could no doubt provide a scientific explanation as to why and how it works, but to Tucker, it’s an odd kind of magic, of horrifying necromancy as they forcibly, painfully force the electricity to run through him again, so similar to the accident that caused this problem in the first place. It’s only by chance that they know it works, having tried the defibrillator hanging on the lab wall in the basement after he came out of the portal and his body fell to the ground as his ghost hovered over it in shock. He didn’t give it much thought the first time. Tucker merely assumed the movies were right and that they restarted Danny’s heart. It wasn’t until later that they learned the truth.
With practiced ease he pulls Danny’s old NASA t-shirt off, and then scowls as he notices that Danny’s wearing a new necklace with a constellation on it that Tucker probably should know the name of after being Danny’s friend for so many years but doesn’t. “Great. More stuff to take off. Wonder who gave it to him,” he grumbles, twisting it around in his fingers until he finds the clasp and removes it. He checks him over for any more metal and finds none. “How long now?”
“Four minutes,” says Sam, and he nods. They worry one day it’ll be too long, that there will be no forcibly stitching his soul and body back together, that all will remain is a ghost and the body of a boy who’s been dead for longer than anyone knows. The longest Danny’s ever gone is thirty-three minutes, yet they were still able to bring him back that day even as it seemed to take longer than usual. But there’s no one they can ask for help or advice, no one that’s dealt with this before besides them and Jazz, and none of them trust the Fenton parents enough to not shoot their own son in the face if they learn the truth. Because so far, at least, when Danny’s back he is alive again. He’s grown a few inches since this started a year ago. He’s been forced to get his usual haircuts, to trim his nails when they get too long. His heart beats within his chest, and he breathes and smiles and laughs like there’s nothing different, nothing wrong, and absolutely nothing out of the ordinary about him.
They shift Danny again, laying him down flat on the floor on his back as Tucker kneels down beside him and sets up the defibrillator and sticks the pads to Danny’s chest. There’s nothing they can do until he returns, so they wait, Tucker drumming his fingers against the side of his leg as Sam continues to glance at her watch every few seconds. “Did you hear that they’re remaking the first Nightmerica movie?” he asks, looking for any distraction he can.
“Ughh, yeah,” she groans. “Which completely misses the point of why it’s so good in the first place. I don’t want a modern version with modern effects. I want cheesy 80s costumes and music and horror and the chance to cheer as stuck-up cheerleaders get murdered. I mean I guess there’s a chance they’ll keep the original charm, but I doubt it.”
“Yeah, there’s already rumors that they’re casting, like, Scarlett Johanson as Nightmerica,” adds Tucker. “Doesn’t really bode well.”
“Seriously? If she gets cast, I’m just going to nope right out, pretend it doesn’t exist, and hope everyone else does the same,” she says, and then goosebumps erupt across their skin as the temperature in the room drops precipitously as Phantom enters the classroom, phasing through the wall.
He looks rougher than usual as ectoplasm drips from his arms and chest, deep claw marks gouging through the thin black and white hazmat suit he wears even now. His eyes are consumed with green light, his hair floating over his head and flickering like sparks, and there’s a faint hint of white beneath the dark suit, of the shape of bones even as Phantom is nothing but ectoplasm. “Rough fight?” he asks.
There’s heavy static behind each word. Talking to him like this is almost useless. They can’t understand the ghost speech, the odd echoes and noise and whirring, and trying to teach Danny sign language or morse code or any other method of communication when he’s whole again is worthless, none of the knowledge transferring to his ghostly self, the wall between his two halves too solid for even Phantom to phase through. They don’t know why Phantom is one of the only ghosts that can’t speak without the noise and distortion, that can’t make his words understood, but it’s a truth that’s held fast for as long as Danny’s been like this.
But Tucker’s gotten better at reading his unnatural body language, the way he twists upside down and curls his tail around himself as his sharp, pointed teeth flash. “Sorry, man,” he says. “I wish you didn’t have to do this.”
They don't know why he feels compelled to fight the other ghosts. They don't even know what triggers the transformation, even as they've come to recognize the warning signs, like the odd vacant stare that sets in, the way Danny’s hackles almost seem to rise as he silently snarls. And it's not as if Danny can tell them.
Phantom whispers something in response, the words still lost in the static, and then he floats over to himself, putting a hand over his own corpse, because as hard as it is for Tucker to think of it that way, he knows, on some level, that’s what Danny's body is without Phantom. There’s no life in it, no presence, no spirit. It’s merely flesh, an empty vessel, and he shudders to think what could happen if another ghost found him like this, if he might be able to possess him somehow.
"We're at nine minutes," says Sam, and Phantom lets out something like a sigh as he floats back into the corpse. Danny's eyes snap open, green and glowing, and they move quickly.
Unlike the one in the lab that was old and lacked the safety features of most modern AEDs, they had to make a few modifications to this one to get it to work. A modern defibrillator won't let someone shock a body with no heartbeat. Messing with the tech felt dicey, but they couldn't find any other methods to safely deliver a shock to him that wouldn't risk their own safety, too.
The pads are already placed, and he pushes the button, biting his lip as he waits. It delivers the first shock, but aside from a twitch in his shoulders and a confirmation from the AED, there's little to no sign it happened.
A hiss of soft static, and Tucker understands the meaning despite the noise, a bitter plea for them to do it again. It takes three shocks before they see it, the strange white light around his midsection, and Tucker turns off the AED as he and Sam scramble a few steps back.
The light spreads, eventually too bright for them to bear the sight of it as little arcs of electricity dance along Danny's skin, and when it finally stops he's sitting up, staring vacantly. The daze won't last, but they take this moment to put away the defibrillator, removing the pads from his chest. Tucker puts the necklace back on, his fingers shaking as he snaps the clasp together. Much as he tries to act like this doesn’t bother him anymore, he can’t contain his relief at seeing Danny sitting up again, his chest slowly moving with each breath, his pulse steady beneath his wrist and neck.
They've just pulled his shirt on when he blinks, and Danny looks down at his hands, wincing as he touches his chest. "I feel like I got run over by the GAV," he groans, and Tucker forces himself to chuckle.
"You might as well have. You hit the floor hard when you fainted," says Tucker. The injuries are never there, but some phantom pain always seems to remain as his ghost heals. "I'm sorry we never manage to catch you, man. I know it’s gotta hurt."
"It's fine," mumbles Danny. "How long was I out?"
"About ten minutes," says Sam. She doesn’t point out that they time this, now, down to the second. It’s not as if timing it changes anything, but it makes them feel better when they revive Danny in under twenty minutes. More than that and they start to worry. Tucker’s still not sure how Danny doesn’t have any brain damage at this point from the lack of oxygen.
Danny hums, flexing his fingers for a minute as the ghost alarm shuts down. "I . . . Doesn't it seem like this is getting worse? I can't even remember seeing a ghost. I . . . I never can."
"You know this messes with your memory–"
"Yeah, but that makes this seem more like I'm having seizures or something, not fainting. And it's always one of you or Jazz when I wake up, which seems weird, maybe? I just . . . Maybe we should tell my parents," he whispers, and Tucker's heart aches.
"I don't think that's a good idea–" begins Sam, but he cuts her off.
"--why not?" He looks between the two of them, scowling, his fists now clenched. "What aren't you telling me?"
He and Sam exchange a long look. It always comes to this eventually, yet despite their best efforts, it's pointless. Some part of Danny refuses to hear the truth, to acknowledge that he died or at least half-died in the portal, and within an hour he always forgets they even discussed this at all. They don't know why. They've proven over and over again that they accept him and love him despite how he’s changed. But the wall is still too solid to break through.
They should explain it to Danny again anyway. Tucker knows that. But he's so tired of repeating himself, and he knows Sam is, too. Jazz says his psyche needs more time to process and accept the truth, but it's been a year with no sign of things changing.
Sam eventually sighs, forcing the words out. She's always been the strongest of the three of them in more ways than one. "A year ago, you had an accident. You were hurt badly, and we saved you, but–"
The door swings open suddenly, and he sees Mr. Lancer there, the relief evident on his face. "Lord of the Flies! Is everyone okay?" he asks as he takes in the sight of the three of them on the floor. At least the AED is back in Tucker's bag and out of sight, since Tucker doubts Mr. Lancer would be willing to ignore what that might signify if he saw it.
"We're fine," says Sam. "We thought we heard the ghost and hid. I'm sorry we worried you."
"Somehow that always seems to happen with the three of you," he says with a frown, clearly questioning it, but thankfully he doesn't push it further. "But I’m glad that you’re safe, at least, and now that the ghost is gone you three need to get to class."
"Okay." They stand up, and Tucker can see the worry and distrust as Danny clenches his jaw and refuses to look at them as he heads out into the hallway. But that’s not the worst part. No, it’s knowing that by the time lunch rolls around, Danny won’t remember his suspicions or his fears. They’ll be pushed down, slowly hidden beneath the protective part of his mind that refuses to let him know the truth, and instead of questioning why he constantly faints whenever there’s a ghost, why he has strange aches and pains, and why he often sets off his parents’ equipment even when he’s human again, he’ll talk to them about the latest video games and movies and gossip and homework.
He desperately wants his friend to know the truth. It hurts, even as he knows they’re not lying to Danny about what’s happening, that they’ve tried to explain it before. And despite how naturally taking care of his body comes to him and Sam now, despite knowing the signs that herald Phantom’s emergence, Tucker knows they can’t keep this a secret forever. Inevitably, they won’t be there one day, they’ll miss an obvious sign, or someone like Lancer will walk in a little too soon. And once they learn the truth, he and Sam and Jazz know that Danny will be taken from them as he’s locked away in a lab by the GIW or his parents and becomes some gruesome science experiment, tortured as he can’t even remember the reason why.
More and more Tucker’s beginning to think they’re running out of time. They need to find a way. They need to get Danny to understand who and what he is so he can protect himself, because Tucker’s not sure how much longer he can keep up the lie, too.
EDIT: I wrote a Part Two, it's here.
#danny phantom#angstfest2023#my writing#no one knows au#just this time it's Danny who's clueless#corpse au#electric core au#if you squint#probably medical inaccuracies#very mild gore#tucker pov#again#i might do a second part for this for the everyone knows au bit#but i'm not sure yet#i might cross post this to ao3 after editing it more too
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Raphael has a very poetic and grandiose way of speaking that is absolutely not the norm for day-to-day life. How do you get in the mindset to come up with his dialogues? They're perfection and I just can't even imagine how long it would take to do one paragraph of the way he talks, but you're writing an entire story with him...
Oh I love this question because I can answer it, lol sadlkjfsda
Okay so, Raphael's character is tough for me.
Normally I do a lot of dialogue research before starting to write a character in fanfiction and original fiction, but Raphael actually gets proportionately very few lines that really show his full emotional range (compared to say, Astarion), and he's got an incredibly specific way of talking that sounds similar to Astarion but at the same time is very different.
They share enough similarities (calling people darling and dear for example) that it's easy to fall into the trap of giving them the same 'voice.'
I find Astarion's voice a lot easier to 'get' and I feel like I can hear him better when I'm writing him. But Raphael I'm taking into emotional spaces we simply never see in the game, and then I have to really guess how he'd sound (like coming up with the idea that the theatricality vanishes when Raphael is genuinely panicking).
I ended up listening to a lot of interviews with Andrew Wincott, the Voice Actor for Raphael who is an incredible actor and extremely articulate. He was very clear in one of his interviews that one of the reasons he was selected to play Raphael was because, in part, he already sounded like him. Obviously there's differences / skill in changing cadence and more, but for the most part, Andrew Wincott uses similar vocabulary and talks in a similar manner to Raphael naturally, so I had an abundance of interviews that I could then listen to in order to get a feel for Raphael's voice. I picked the things that felt more 'Raphael' and added them to my dialogue notes.
I often have to go back and edit Raphael's dialogue. Sometimes it's very simple things, I had him say 'much more' in the chapter I'm editing right now, and I edited it to 'far more' because I think he'd just phrase it like that. Sometimes I expand a sentence into an entire paragraph.
I've also leaned a lot from Korilla's transcripts in the game, which have been super useful. They really cement, more than anything, how much he loves lullabies, nursery rhymes, children's tales and more.
HOW TO DO DIALOGUE RESEARCH:-
If you're new to dialogue research, it mostly involves listening to - and watching a character and then literally taking notes of how they talk. The things you observe are:
The tone of their voice - Fast or slow. Loud or soft. Musical or flat. Theatrical or matter-of-fact. High or low. Questioning or complete statements. Considered or hedging (i.e. very well constructed sentences, or a lot of pauses, ellipses, broken sentences). Rambling or concise.
How often they talk - Some characters actually say a lot with very little. Raphael is actually a lot of observation and facial expressions and eyebrow movements in between his dialogue. Little smirks, hand gestures and more. Do they interrupt or let people finish their sentences? Are they comfortable with silence? I find Raphael oscillates between long theatrical paragraphs, single sentences or words, and then a lot of silence. He's actually not very conversational, in that you can have a conversation with him, but I doubt he'd see the point of two hours of small-talk. (At this point you might be realising that dialogue research is also character research, how a character talks tells you so much about a character.)
The words (and metaphors/subjects) they use - This is a big one and I'm going to break this down a little bit more:
How they pause if they don't know what to say. Is it 'um' 'uh' 'ah' 'hm' 'mm' 'mn' or nothing at all (or something else) because they've mastered self-control over their dialogue? If Raphael says 'ah' he does so on purpose.
Filler words. Things like characters saying 'like' in a sentence. 'He was like, 'I can't believe it'' etc. This is very similar to how they pause, but it's the things people say to get from point A to point B. People who don't do this have often had training or think very hard about what they're going to say before they say it. But people say 'like' or 'and then' or 'well' or 'i realised that' or 'i thought that' etc. to carry them on. Some are more acceptable than others (people do just have realisations for example).
Profanity. How often do they swear, and how intentional is it? Some characters only swear when they get hurt or stub their toe or get angry. Some characters swear all the time for fun. Some characters only use some swear words and not others. Be specific. Be aware that some swear words are cultural! This includes blasphemy. In Faerun they use 'gods' and 'gods damn it' more often than we use 'god' or 'oh my god.'
Vulgarity. This is useful for Raphael (and Astarion) because he's very happy to be vulgar. This is like... how comfortable are they talking about sex, about sexual subjects, being crude, being seductive, flirtatious? And if they use it, do they use vulgarity to shock, seduce, scare, threaten, or for humour?
Salutations and farewells. How do they greet people? Silence? A calm hello? (A lot of greetings are omitted in dialogue but this is still good to know). How do they say hello, goodbye. How does that change between friends and enemies and strangers?
Single word sentences. This might sound weird, but sometimes when a character hears something that shocks them, or needs to acknowledge something, they may say anything from 'huh' to 'yeah' to 'fuck' to 'okay' to 'all right' to 'sure' to 'go on' to 'indeed' to just laughing out loud. The list goes on. Raphael is team 'indeed' lmao.
Sentence structure. Raphael's sentence structure is - when he's most comfortable - gently provoking, teasing, vaguely threatening, and makes liberal use of simile, metaphor, fairy tale, rhyme, sayings, colloquialisms and more. Raphael talks like someone who knows someone could quote him at any moment lmao. But from here, how a character structures their sentences can be helpful to know. Go back to 'the tone of their voice.' Those notes will give you an idea of structure.
Emotionality. How emotional are they? Do they have rage rants? Joyful giggling dialogue? Do they infodump with little emotion? Or with sheer excitement? Does their dialogue feel fake or real? Opaque or transparent? Some people wear their hearts on their sleeves, and others will never be able to say 'I love you' in anything other than actions. Raphael's emotionality in dialogue is more present in his anger and irritation, and also when he feels triumphant and/or turned on.
The symbols, sayings, colloquialisms and metaphors themselves. Not all characters use these. But some people/characters will talk through analogies, colloquialisms. This is actually Raphael's biggest dialogue departure from Astarion, imho, aside from the fact that Astarion is a lot more emotional with his dialogue.
Take into account their culture, ethnicity, conceits, upbringing, education and the people they're close to:
This one is vital. Firstly, some people tend to 'absorb' elements of those around them. A person raised by affluent people will often 'sound affluent' and a person raised in poverty will often have dialogue that reflects this and if they don't there will be reasons for that. It might be a conceit (some people self-teach themselves different accents), it might be education, it might be training, it might be the subculture/s they've entered into, and so on.
~
When doing this research, you'll end up with a kind of master-list of actual words and probably some sentences you've written down, along with a lot of notes. You can also do this for any original characters you're making at all, you're just then making it up based on the character, and this research will also give in many ways the shape of the character.
It's a fun exercise and I highly recommend everyone tries it literally for people who don't exist and also observe your friends and family, and do a dialogue cheat sheet for some of them. It's pretty eye-opening! Even one page will teach you more than nothing at all. You can go deep and write many pages, or you can do what I do and keep it lean at 2 pages. Anyone who struggles with characterisation I suggest at least try this exercise, because anyone can put on a YouTube video and/or streaming service or even a favourite Tiktoker and start doing dialogue research! It's a way of building a character from the top down while also getting information about their foundations.
#asks and answers#pia on dialogue#pia on characterisation#pia on writing#reference#on writing#writing techniques#writing advice#dodgy advice#i might just take the second 'how to' part and make it its own post#but anyway here's how to do it!
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“What is happening?”
Nico slinks up beside Percy, who is sitting with Annabeth and watching a group of campers dancing out on the open grass.
There's country music playing from somewhere. What is going on.
“Line dancing.” Percy informs him with a grin, still watching the crowd. “Will was teaching the younger Apollo kids. Now half the camp is involved.”
Half the camp might be an overstatement, but the number is slowly growing as more campers wander over to see what’s going on.
“What.”
Nico cranes his neck. Sure enough, a familiar head of blonde curls is standing nearly a head above the rest of the campers (Will had another growth spurt that summer and finally broke six foot. He also was not about to let Nico forget it), as the head medic (and now dance instructor, apparently) guides the small gathering through a set of simple, repetitive steps.
He throws in a couple of high energy jumping, spinning movements with a laugh that earn him a slap on the arm from Kayla, who had been trying her best to follow her older brother until that moment.
Nico is in disbelief as it dawns on him; Will can dance. Talented a healer Will may be, the son of Apollo is famously, catastrophically - and those are his own words - lacking in the department of his father’s creative talents. Nico has watched Will trip over the ground, his own feet, and honest to Gods thin air more times than he can count and yet here, as the music changes to something a bit more upbeat, Nico realises that Will is showing off, with a series of complicated movements that only a few other kids, who have evidently done this before, can keep up with. Even Nico, with all his battle training, has trouble following.
Will looks up and catches his eye. Nico didn't think the smile on his tanned, freckle-covered face could get any brighter, but it does. Will waves to them, says something to Kayla, then jogs over.
“Hey!” Will passes a glance over Percy and Annabeth, but when his blue eyes meet Nico's, they don't stray. Nor does the bright, eager smile on his face.
Nico can hear the muffled laughter from his friends.
His ears are burning.
“Would y'all like to join in rather than just standin’ around?” Will asks, a little breathless. His eyes never leave Nico, even though the question is clearly directed at all of them.
Nico feels a little breathless, too.
“Nico would!” Percy says with far too much enthusiasm, and shoves Nico’s leg, right in the joint of his knee, sending him stumbling directly into Will’s arms as Will reaches out to steady him.
“Woah, careful.” Will grips his arms, voice low as he helps Nico to right himself while his heart does a series of complicated movements of its own.
Nico can feel goosebumps where Will is touching him, and he jumps back like he had been electrocuted. He turns to Percy with a near-murderous glare. Percy smiles serenely back.
“I don’t dance.” Nico answers flatly, directed more at the son of Poseidon, but behind him, he hears Will scoff.
“Bullshit, di Angelo. I’ve seen you sword fighting.”
“Yeah, Nico. And what is sword fighting, if not an elaborate dance between two - or more, in this case - people?” Percy adds helpfully, elbow on his knee and chin resting in his hand. He has the audacity to waggle his eyebrows at him.
“Exactly. Thank you, Percy.” Will is grinning, blissfully ignorant to the blatant ribbing occurring before him. Percy waves his hand and ducks his head with a smug smile.
“I think it would be fun.” Annabeth adds innocently, and Nico gives her a look of utter betrayal. He was expecting this from Percy, but has been hoping that Annabeth would have some sympathy towards him. She meets his eyes with a smile, before looking to her boyfriend. “We’ll join in a bit, Will. You two get started.”
Will shoots her a pair of finger guns, because of course he does. “I’m holdin' you to that.”
(“Will we?” Percy asks her, once they’re out of earshot
Annabeth grins. “No.”)
Still glaring daggers at his friends for their treachery, Nico feels a brush against his arm, and he looks down to see Will’s hand retreating. Looking up, the head of the Apollo cabin is watching him with a soft, hopeful expression.
“Coming?”
Nico groans internally. Damn Will and his stupid puppy eyes and damn him and his Stupid, Enormous Crush. He looks up at the sky, and sends a quick prayer to his father and any other god who might be listening to smite him now before he makes an even bigger fool of himself, because he just can’t say no to this boy, can he?
He sighs and resigns himself to his fate when nothing happens.
“Fine.”
With a smile that is nearly blinding, Will reaches back out to grab Nico’s arm, and all but drags him towards the crowd.
#solangelo#nico di angelo#will solace#percy jackson#annabeth chase#pjo#pjo hoo toa#riordanverse#plagued by visions fr#I might write a second part with Actual Dancing if I can figure out How To Write Line Dancing#Will was doing the Fake ID linedance btw#yes from Footloose (2011)
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I don't normally write angst/whump/hurt no comfort like this but the idea wouldn't leave me alone.
Tails has a bad time in this. Sorry
1.8k words
All things considered, it didn’t take them that long to find Tails. There had been a time, admittedly before the two of them had any other friends, when Eggman had kidnapped Tails for days. It had taken Sonic a long time to even track the man down, let alone break into his base and rescue his friend.
Things were different now. Sonic was stronger. He had friends to back him up.
Sure, maybe the idea of kidnappings was a little more concerning now than it had been before Sonic’s six month… vacation. But what had happened then wouldn’t be repeated.
Especially not with Tails.
He had only been missing for a few hours when they found him. Or, more accurately, Sonic found him. Once he, Knuckles, and Amy had breached Eggman’s base, his friends let him rush off to find Tails without question. They’d stay behind and cover for him if any badniks tried to impede the rescue, but they knew how anxious Sonic was to get to Tails. Trying to keep him from getting there first would not spell out good results for anyone.
The cells were easy to find. Eggman usually built at least one or two into any new bases he developed, and it was simple to locate them if you were familiar with Eggman’s architectural style. They were normally underground and close to the center of the base. All Sonic had to do was find an elevator deep enough in and, sure enough, the cells were just outside of the doors when they opened.
The smell of blood and medical supplies hit his nostrils, and his heart started hammering.
“Tails?” he called out; the closest cell was empty, so he had to move past it to an adjacent one before he was able to catch sight of the fox.
He couldn’t prevent a gasp from escaping at what he saw, eyes going wide as he immediately plucked a quill from his head, plunging it into the lock on the cell with a significant amount of urgency.
Tails was lying in the corner, curled into a ball, trembling. Sonic couldn’t see what the cause was from outside the cell with the way Tails was lying, but he’d also caught the sight of white bandages with splotches of red soaking through.
“Tails, it’s me, I’m gonna get you out,” Sonic spoke as he fussed with the lock. Lock picking was not his specialty, and his inefficiency made his stress increase. He let out a frustrated grunt, kicking the bottom of the door as he kept fiddling with the detached quill in the lock.
The little pile of golden fur began to shift, unrolling from the ball he’d been in to look up. “S-Sonic?”
Tension drained from Sonic’s body at the sound of that voice. If Tails was conscious, everything was so much better than it would be otherwise. “Yeah, bud, it’s me.” He took a moment to pause his lock picking to look over at his little bro, and sucked in a gasp, almost wishing he hadn’t.
There was a haunted look in Tails’ eyes. It was like a shadow had fallen over them, despite the almost too-bright lighting in the cell. He didn’t seem entirely present, either, as if he was in a kind of daze. Any relief Sonic had felt evaporated in an instant. His little bro should not look like that. He dropped his focus back down to his task.
“Just hang on for a minute, I’ve almost got this open…”
“Use two quills.”
Sonic looked back at Tails again. “Huh?”
“Use two quills,” Tails repeated, now starting to shuffle around into a sitting position, back against the cell wall. It let Sonic see that the bandages were wrapped around Tails’ hips, but he couldn’t see more than that. “One to put tension on the lock and the other to move the pins.”
Sonic snapped his fingers. “Thanks, bud! I knew I was forgetting something.” He plucked another quill from his head and got back to work on the lock, noting that Tails didn’t perk up at his lighter tone like he’d hoped. Something was definitely wrong.
The first pin popped into place. Tails would be out soon. “What did Eggman do? How badly are you hurt?” he asked as he kept working away at the lock.
He didn’t expect Tails to whimper. The sound made him freeze. “Tails, bud--” He cut himself off when Tails whimpered again. The kid flinched and squeezed his eyes shut. Okay, this wasn’t good. Sonic focused his full attention on the lock.
After a few more clicks, he was able to turn it and open the door. Immediately he rushed to Tails’ side.
He wasn’t prepared for Tails to cower away from him.
“Hey, buddy, it’s just me,” Sonic said carefully, kneeling down on the floor next to him and holding his hands out. “Whatever Eggman did is over now. I’m getting you out of here.”
Tails shook his head, still not looking up at Sonic, still squeezing his eyes shut.
“At the very least I need to know how hurt you are,” Sonic tried to reason, reaching out a hand. “Can I see—”
“DON’T!”
Not expecting such an outburst, Sonic jumped, startled. Tails’ eyes had flown open and he, somehow, pressed himself further into the corner where he was sitting.
This was not going well.
“Tails, I need—” He cut himself off again when Tails flinched at the sound of his name. Was… was there something wrong with the name? Every once in a while, Sonic would ask his brother if the nickname was still okay, to make sure it wasn’t bringing up bad memories unnecessarily. Every time, Tails insisted that he liked the name, that it was better than “Miles”. But maybe Eggman had done something to change that opinion?
His eyes drifted down to the bandages around Tails’ waist. They were wrapped loosely around the front of his body, in a way that suggested they were simply holding in place the more important bandages on the other side. Tails’ back. Or, more accurately…
“He did something to your tails.” It wasn’t a question. The fox kit was positioned in a way that hid his tails from view. Now that Sonic had put the pieces together, it was obvious.
The whine that Tails let out was enough confirmation he was right.
“C’mon, bud, let me see,” Sonic tried to coax gently, unsurprised when Tails shook his head immediately. He forced himself not to sigh. He understood Tails’ sensitivity about his tails, but in situations like this, it could be a problem. He had to change tactics. “Alright, I don’t have to see right now. But are you too hurt to walk? I need to know if I have to carry you out of here or not.”
Tails just shook his head again.
“No? No what? No, you can’t walk? No, you don’t need to be carried?”
Tails didn’t answer, just sniffled.
It was easy to forget, sometimes, that Tails was just a kid. With how insanely intelligent he was, and how easily he kept up and fit in with his older friends, it wasn’t always obvious just how young he was. But Sonic knew better than anyone that he was just a child still. And on occasion, in rare situations like this one, he had to be treated like the age he was, and not the age he acted.
“Kid, can you look at me?” No reaction. “C’mon, just for a second?”
Two baby blue eyes opened slowly and met Sonic’s. There were emotions there that he couldn’t read, and that scared him. Sonic knew Tails better than anyone else on the planet; it was rare that he wasn’t able to read him flawlessly at this point.
“I’m still not sure what Eggman did to you, but it was bad, wasn’t it?”
Hesitation, then Tails nodded. Gaia, he looked absolutely miserable. Sonic was about ready to track Eggman down and make him pay, but Tails needed him right now. He had to hope that Amy and Knuckles were giving him a bad time for him.
“I’m not sure if you’re more hurt or more scared, but it’s okay to be feeling those things,” Sonic continued. He wasn’t sure if he was getting through to Tails, but he hoped he was. “You’re gonna be okay though. Whatever happened, it’ll be much better once we get out of here, but that means we actually have to get out first. Which is why I need to know if I have to carry you or not.”
Tails held his gaze in silence for a few seconds, biting at his lower lip. Then he turned his head away. The arms wrapped around his torso tightened. “It’s not gonna get better.”
Oh, Sonic’s heart could break at that. What the hell did Eggman do to his little brother in such a short amount of time to break his spirit like this? “Yeah it will, li’l bro, you’ll see—”
“No it won’t!” Tails didn’t yell as loudly this time, but it still startled Sonic. “You can’t say that, you don’t even… you don’t know what he…” The kid’s breathing started to accelerate, the signs of panic evident. Sonic was completely messing this up.
“Tails,” he said, wincing as he caught the flinch at the name again. “Please just let me help you get out of here. Whatever happened, we can find a way to fix it once we’re safe.”
Tails shook his head again. “It can’t be fixed,” he insisted, voice wavering.
“I doubt that’s true—”
“It can’t. It can’t.”
“Bud—”
“He took it.”
Sonic froze. “...What?”
Tails sniffled. “It’s… he…”
Realization dawned on Sonic like a bucket of ice water being poured over him. He pleaded to every god out there that what he was putting together was wrong.
“Your tails…” Sonic said, feeling like he was going to be sick.
Suddenly, Tails lunged forward and wrapped his arms tight around Sonic, burying his face in Sonic’s chest and letting out a wail. His entire body was shuddering with the force of his sobbing, the wetness of his tears soaking through Sonic’s fur in only a few seconds.
He wrapped his arms tight around his little brother, rubbing his back in a way that he hoped was soothing, gently shushing him and instructing him to breathe. But Sonic felt like he might need someone to console him, too, because he now had a clear look at what had happened.
At the base of Tails’ spine, there were bandages with just enough blood soaking through to be of note. They would have to be changed as soon as they could.
Because where there should be two tails, now sat only one.
#sonic#sonic the hedgehog#sth#sonic fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#miles tails prower#cw amputation#angst#whump#i might write a second part to this since. the actual idea that wouldnt leave my mind doesnt actually happen in this part#but i might not write it so i just decided i would post this
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“Do you feel like I’ve awakened you sexually?” Foggy asks, leaning against the doorway of Matt’s office and only remembering after he says it that Matt doesn’t know he’s spent the last fifteen minutes thinking about the fact that he might have awakened Matt sexually.
Matt raises his head slowly.
“. . .excuse me?” he asks.
“I was just thinking about the last couple of months,” Foggy says, moving to sink into one of the chairs in front of the desk, “and. . .I don’t know, I’m the first guy you’ve ever slept with and it seems like you’ve really. . .taken to it?”
“Is that what you’ve been thinking about when you’re supposed to be doing paperwork?” Matt asks, with just the hint of a smile.
“Yes,” Foggy says, “which, by the way, I wouldn’t have to do if you hadn’t dated Karen and driven her away to a more fulfilling career.”
“Well, watch out or I’ll do it to you, too,” Matt says, huffing out a laugh, leaning backward a little.
“No, you won’t,” Foggy says, reaching out to take his hand, lacing their fingers together. “I don’t know about you, but I’m kind of ridiculously committed to this situation.”
Matt opens his mouth to say something then shuts it again, cheeks going pink when he ducks his head to smile.
“Some things might have been awakened,” he says.
“I’ll take it,” Foggy says, squeezing his hand. “Do you want to awaken something in the office right now? I could use something else to avoid doing that paperwork.”
“No sex in the office,” Matt says, laughing.
“Unless it’s an emergency,” Foggy says.
“. . .unless it’s an emergency,” Matt concedes, nodding.
So far, emergencies have included adrenaline highs after winning a case, drowsy sex in the kitchenette during an all nighter and one time that Matt wore pants that were a little too tight in ways that distracted both of them to no end.
“I’ll go finish,” Foggy says, sighing and getting up to press a kiss to the top of Matt’s head then softly on the mouth when Matt raises his head for it. “I’m going to be thinking about what I want to do with you later, though. Any thoughts?”
“I would,” Matt says, solemnly, “love to be inside you.”
“. . .okay, that’s really feeling like an emergency to me,” Foggy says.
“I want you in bed,” Matt says, standing up to grab him gently by the waist. “I want to spread you out on the pillows and get you ready for me and make you beg–”
Foggy interrupts him by dragging him into a rough kiss, grabbing Matt’s hair and gasping when Matt tightens his grip on his waist and slides his hands down to his hips instead.
“. . .the paperwork can wait until tomorrow, right?” Matt asks, breathlessly.
"Yeah," Foggy says, pulling him toward the door. "They'll keep."
#daredevil#mattfoggy#my fic#i might write the hypothetical second part of this#with the pillows and the begging
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Spoilers for Alan Wake 2: the final draft—trying to figure out who wrote the dark poems that are found like manuscript pages and painted near the overlaps/murder sites. might be a case of “is it alan, scratch, zane, or the grandmaster? yes”
#a part of me is always theorizing when thinking of Alan Wake#but honestly the ambiguity is what makes it fun#these poems being found similarly to Alan’s pages but in the medium of Tom the Poet#with the words Tom the Diver said about Scratch at the end of AW1#everything kinda merging together. fascinating#it’s been a second since I’ve played aw2 (…still need to finish the final draft)#but I remember Alan’s comments when finding the poems on the walls interesting#and being very sure he didn’t write them#alan wake 2#final draft spoilers#alan wake#might delete#there’s a good chance I’ve already posted about this but whatever#also. saga being a deer and Alan being an owl. unbelievably cute. always thinking about that one persons animal crossing au art
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hi deeja! song for writing prompt: somebody else by the 1975!!
Send me a song and I'll write something for it's ~vibe~
My brain heard those first lyrics and went "Oh, pain and heart ache? Guess I'm going to put Echo through torture :) :) :)" Thank you for this, I think I actually needed to dive into some angst ;w;
Warnings for: just general heartbreak, past relationships, mentions of physical and emotional torture and explorations of trauma (takes place right after Echo's rescue), and no happy resolutions
Echo's head was still spinning.
After the harrowing escape from Skako Minor, his body was depleted, aching in a bone-deep emptiness he couldn't explain. His mind, his soul, felt like they were out of his body, hovering in empty space.
Hovering in that endless void of numbers and calculations.
"No, stop, don't go there. You're safe- you're out! Rex came back for you, Rex saved you! Everything was going to be okay."
That's the thought Echo forced into his mind. And it helped that Kix was there, by his side. The medic was a godsend. He hadn't needed to say anything, about the droids, about how feeling their cold metal on his skin made him want to scream and throw up and cry and shut down all the same time. Echo didn't need to explain, Kix had sent them out of the med bay immediately and it was only warm, human hands that examined him, that cared for him.
Even still, as he lay on the hospital bunk, he couldn't help but yearn for a certain pair of careful hands. Of loving hands. Hands that always knew how to soothe him.
"Kix," his voice barely sounded like his own, raw and sore, "I need a comm link."
The medic, who had been looking at his vitals like a hawk, met his eyes, "What's that?"
"I need to contact her, need to tell her I'm okay." 'Need to hear her voice, need to tell her I love her'
Something in the way Kix's face slid into something somber put him on high alert, like sensing a hidden enemy. Echo's body tensed as he watched Kix set his data pad aside. The look in the medic's eyes, the way he stepped towards Echo, it was like he was scared of spooking an injured tooka.
"I...don't think that's a good idea, vod."
"Why?" he didn't mean for it to come out like a growl, but there were a thousand different thoughts running through his head now. Were you okay? Was there some reason Kix didn't trust him to contact you? Was-
"Echo." Kix's tone was firm, but not unkind, and maker, the sadness and pity in his eyes made Echo want to scream. "Brother, you were gone for a long time."
'No.'
"We- everyone thought you were dead...."
'No!'
"...She thought you were dead, for a long time."
Ringing filled his ears, drowning out whatever Kix said next. His soul felt like it was drifting again, mind fading to black as realization bombarded him all at once.
Of course you had moved on. Why wouldn't you? Why would you hold on to a ghost? To a corpse?
Why would Echo be allowed any shred of his old life?
It was just another loss. Another thing they had taken from him. Another part of him that was sawed open and ripped from his person, like his limbs, his mind, his humanity.
After all this, how could he have hoped that he could still have you?
~*~
The Bad Batch was rarely on Coruscant, according to Hunter, but their ship was in need of repairs and here they were.
When Echo had mentioned a few adventures he and the 501st had at 79s, the others insisted they show him this spot, eager to unwind during their rare shore leave.
Echo was already a few drinks in when Crosshair goaded him into being the one to get their next round. "If that scomp limb doesn't get the barkeeps attention nothing will," he had said, eyeing the extremely crowded bar. Echo wanted to say Wrecker was sure to get more attention, but decided he'd take the chance to stretch his legs.
He was just in the middle of waving someone down when he saw it.
Echo would recognize that jacket anywhere, it was one of your favorite things in the world, your statement piece, and so distinctly you.
You.
You were on other side of the bar, and he felt like an idiot. How could he not think he'd run into you here? How could he have agreed to come when he knew this was your go to nightly spot?
How could he risk seeing you with him.
You were smiling, laughing at something he whispered into your ear, his arm wrapped around you warmly. You were smiling and laughing in the way Echo used to make you smile and laugh.
His body felt too tight all of the sudden, warm and sweaty and shaky, and before he knew it, Echo was bursting out the door, his body moving- running of its own accord.
Echo hadn't been aware enough to realize that you had spotted him too, not until he stopped in his tracks at the sound of your angelic voice.
Again he was moving as if someone else was controlling his body as he turned. There you were, backlit by the neon lights of the city, eyes wide, fist clenched over your heart, and your whole body was shaking.
You looked just as perfect as he remembered. More so, even.
"Echo," emotion broke the name in half when you said it, and Echo felt his body come alive. "Echo, is that really you?"
This was wrong, this was all wrong.
You were out of his reach, out of his life, gone. You were the past he couldn't wallow in. You were the love and touch and body he wasn't allowed to want. Your love and touch and body were somebody else's now.
And it wasn't fair of Echo to ruin that for you, or for that somebody else.
As much as it pained him, if you showed any signs that your heart was still his, Echo would break it, right here.
That's all he could do, for your sake, for his, and for that somebody else.
#this idea definitely got away from me!#blame it on me tapping into the angst I have planned for my Echo series#this would be kinda of a 'what if' alternate time line for that I guess lol#also I hope I got the vibe right?? the first part might not fit but I think I pulled it back with the second part#echo x reader#echo x you#tbb echo x reader#deeja writes
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words are being written for this thaluke fic 👁
i'm calling it my fleece quest luke au to keep it short. but the fic will probably be titled lightning in a bottle. the gist of it is luke, not a traitor this time around, goes on the golden fleece quest in a desperate attempt to save thalia
#there's more to it but i'm leaving it at that for now 🤭#the hardest part has been trying to weave my usual canon seamlessly because i cannot write pjo without my ocs now#also yes hudson and piedad are gonna be luke's quest mates why do you ask <3#in this au i think luke's quest mates for the golden apple did die. i don't think hudson and piedad went with him#mostly cause i doubt chiron would allow all 3 of them to have a second try at a quest after failing lol#how do i give piedad her scars those are an important part of her design ✍️#also percy isn't claimed yet in this au. he's just chilling in cabin 11 because there was no lightning thief#percabeth might sneak into the quest because i like shenanigans#i have to reread som to keep writing#.txt#my fic#fic: golden fleece luke#thaluke
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Seeing as ghost are canon in danganronpa, how do you feel about Junko ghost AUs where she haunts the remnants or first game survivors?
It is almost literally my favourite narrative take (tight behind found family / they love each other) I am SO about it you have no idea. It's the tastiest I go nuts
#I yell and think loudly about Junko physically haunting the ppl who took her body parts so much and often#Fuyuhiko sees someone right out of the corner of his eye that's supposed to be blind#Even after Nagito gets a cool robot hand sometimes it acts against his will for a second and it feels like ....#Mikan is such a whoof idk if I can even go there. But she might have it worst of all#Like while everyone is haunted they get it the worst#Maybe it's because of them that the entire island is haunted. Bc they kept her alive in a way that cant be undone#If they took in even a little bit of her cells or blood or DNA. Its irreversible and shes just There Now.#Can u imagine??? Ur on an abandoned island or a ship and you dont have the option of leaving. And there is a ghost#Everyone knows it but talking about these things gives them power you know#Maybe that's partially why even the antisocial or private people start sleeping with others in the room#You'd rather wake up to your loudly snoring friend than to a vague silhouette that *might* be someone sitting on the corner of your bed#Sorry I lose it when ppl start to talk horror I dont know what I'm writing#I have an entire fanfic in my head that I might get out sometimes about The Haunting Of Jabberwock Island
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Rating: Mature (horny)
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Relationship(s): Edelgard von Hresvelg/Byleth Eisner
Words: 11.5k (2 chapters out of, theoretically, 3)
There's a new professor of the Black Eagles house, but it's not the one Edelgard and Hubert had planned to take on the role—and to make matters worse, Edelgard knows her. She could never forget her, or a single moment of that hot summer night when they met in Enbarr.
Worst of all, the professor doesn't seem to remember Edelgard.
AU in which Byleth and Edelgard meet by chance a few months before the start of White Clouds.
#fe3h#fire emblem#fire emblem three houses#edelgard von hresvelg#edeleth#byleth eisner#byleth x edelgard#fire emblem fanfiction#fe3h fanfic#my loathe letter to the past perfect tense#hubert's here but only in chapter one and like for five seconds at the end of the story that is as of yet unwritten#this started out as an earnest attempt at writing smut but it ended up becoming almost 20k words before anyone even kissed sooooo#if we're being honest this is two character studies in a smut trenchcoat#with a dumbass framing device that just exists to twist a knife#fun fact: this actually was like the third fanfic i ever wrote. i started it not too long after wrapping up shared space#then it spiraled out of my control so i've been sitting on it#i dunno i think ~12k words of preamble to agreeing to have sex is fine. if that's not your scene that's on you#someday i might work up the courage to post the next part#but if you thought the purple prose and self-indulgent pseudointellectualism were bad in these two chapters i will warn you#i'm just getting started#i have not even scratched the surface of how unsexy i can make a purported sex scene
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you’re losing your memory - Part 1/3
It happened on a Tuesday. There was nothing special about this day. It was late August, and Robin had been enjoying her day off in the silence of her own room. It wasn't too warm, wasn't too cool, it was just average. She had plans to finish the book she and Nancy were reading, their own little gay book club. Well, she was going to read until Steve got off of work and picked her up. Then they'd go over to Steve's, and Nancy and Eddie would join them. Just an average day.
Robin wished it had been average.
Robin had been sitting on her bed when she heard it. The police sirens. She stood up slowly, unsure of what was happening, but her body was trained to react during moments of duress. She moved back down the stairs and grabbed the phone, dialing a number she knew by heart. It rang out. She rang Family Video again, but still no response. She moved and picked up her walkie, switching to the channel they had Dustin set up for the two of them. She whispered Steve's name until her voice grew to a scream, and she started to panic.
She's known Steve for over a year now, and they've called each other often. Especially after Vecna, as they both attempted to try and be normal. It never worked, but they tried. Yet time and time again Robin would wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of Steve's voice coming through the walkie or she'd be the one to call him. And not every panic call was about the Upside Down. No, some calls were Robin whispering about her fears of someone seeing through her and knowing her secret. Of losing all their friends just because of who she was born as. Or the calls where Robin attempted to guide Steve through the sexuality crisis that Eddie Munson had caused.
Some weren’t even bad. She had radioed him when Nancy had kissed her. Steve had when he heard back from the community college just the town over from the university Robin applied to, that he had been accepted. Or even when they wanted to talk about anything and everything. But no matter what it was, they always answered. The longest it ever took was 10 minutes when Steve had been in the shower and had fallen in his scramble to get to the walkie. She had gotten Nancy to drive the two of them to the emergency room as they whispered to each other in the back.
All this time, every single time they called or tried to talk, Steve answered. he always kept the walkie nearby, and unless Family Video was bustling with customers, which it never was. (And even if it was, Steve always uses the excuse to pick up the phone to get out of dealing with them.) And he rarely left the house if not to hang out with her. So, Steve should be able to answer.
She ran out of her room and grabbed the keys to her mom's car. Calling out a goodbye before she jumped into the car. Robin didn't want to learn how to drive but after Vecna Steve and Nancy taught her and now she's extremely grateful. Robin bounced in her seat as she glanced at the walkie in her passenger seat periodically. She prayed his voice would come through the speaker, but it didn't. And she knew why as she saw Hopper's police car and an ambulance in the parking lot to Family Video. Robin jumped out of the car and ducked through the growing crowd of people, all trying to figure out what was going on. Her eyes danced around, seeing Hoppers' tall frame. She ran over and grabbed his arm quickly. The man jumped, looking ready for a fight until she came into view. His eyes flickered to the store, and Robin's heart was stuck in her throat.
Her eyes followed his gaze to the cot being moved toward the back of the ambulance. She watched as a hand dropped off the side, completely limp. The watch on the wrist had her complete focus. She couldn't look away. She just stared at the watch. Many people could have that watch. With the same little woven rainbow bracelet tied to it because El made it for him. Anyone could have the same little triple-knotted thread. It didn't have to be Steve's.
The cot was lifted into the ambulance, and she raced over. Hopper didn't stop her. In fact, he followed right after her. She carefully looked away from the wrist and watched a paramedic place a mask over Steve's face like Steve couldn't breathe on his own. It was ridiculous, Steve breathed just fine. Hopper helped her up and said something to the two others in the ambulance that she couldn't hear over the ringing in her ears as she carefully grabbed Steve's hand into hers. But he didn't look in pain. He looked like he was sleeping, and Robin wished she was back in the Harrington house. Waking up next to Steve because she hadn't wanted to be alone, and Steve didn't want to either. How she had woken up before him for once and thought she had to be a lesbian cause if she couldn't love Steve then there wasn't a man out there she could love.
As she took him in, she couldn't find what was wrong. It was just Steve. But her heart was failing anyways like she already knew what happened. She couldn't tear her eyes from the peaceful look on Steve, one that hid whatever had happened. "You'll be fine," She whispered, and she forced herself to believe it. For she had gone to war with Steve, and he had been beaten into the ground over and over, but he always got back up. He never let them keep him down. Steve had helped with the Upside Down after being beaten up by Billy. Steve had gotten tortured by Russians and got back up to keep fighting until it was all over. He was almost eaten alive and still got up and helped with the fight against Vecna. He carried Eddie's limp body out of the Upside Down even though he looked ready to collapse. Whatever had happened, she knew he could get back up. He always got back up.
But as he was wheeled away and she was forced to stay in the waiting room, her fears only grew. She didn't move from her chair as Hopper sat down, not even when Eddie, Nancy, and Dustin scrambled in a little while later. Eddie kneeled in front of her, and she knew he was trying to comfort her. But how could she be comforted when the person she loves the most is hurt? Soon enough, she was pulled into Nancy's side, and they all watched Dustin pace.
She didn't think she even breathed until a doctor came out and called, "Harrington." Robin grabbed the one simple ring that had belonged to Eddie’s mom and slipped it on her ring finger. Eddie didn't even seem to mind as they stopped in front of the doctor. "Are any of you family?" He raised an eyebrow, and they all knew he knew them enough. It was a small town after all.
"He's my fiancé. Um, I’m Robin Buckley," Robin but in and the doctor's eyes grew. Dustin spluttered at the reveal, looking completely lost. After all, no one but her, Steve, Nancy, and Eddie knew that Steve wasn't exactly her type.
"Please tell me he's okay," She begs, not caring how Dustin reacts. Eddie places his hand on her shoulder and they stand there, a group of mismatched people brought together for this one man. Hopper stood behind them as if daring the man to say something. To tell them no.
"It wasn't anything new, I'm afraid. I'm glad whoever called it in at his job. If he hadn't come in a few weeks ago, this could've been much, much worse. But we've already discussed a plan with Mr. Harrington. He's awake at the moment, but very disorientated. He's not sure of the date but it's perfectly natural for his condition. We'd like to keep visitors to a minimum. So, one of you may follow me. Perhaps his fiancé?" The doctor spoke and Robin was beyond confused.
But she nodded and followed after the man. Leaving the other three up front. As she entered Steve's room, his gaze was lazy like he wasn’t completely there. “Mr. Harrington, this is your fiancé, Robin Buckley.” She looked over at him with an apology for lying only to see a different version of confusion on his face.
“Hey Stevie,” she said softly and he just blinked at her. Like he didn’t know her. It made Robin freeze.
She looked back at the doctor, "he's missing some time. But most of the time that's normal." The doctor stated and Robin felt the world melt away from her. She looked back at Steve, a Steve that didn’t know her.
Robin shook her head, "normal? This isn't normal. He should- this- he should remember me. I- I’ve known him for two years."
"Years?" Steve asks as the doctor speaks over him.
"Seizures can cause loss of time, but as I said, it's normal. But I’m afraid the path to remembrance isn’t as straightforward as we’d like. He might remember it all just to forget it again.” The doctor says like it’s not breaking her entire world apart. Like… it’s not crushing them both. She can see Steve’s face fall in the corner of her eye.
But it's the word seizures that makes Robin's heart stop. Sure, Steve had gotten hurt a lot. Maybe even a couple of concussions more than he should have, but he was healthy. He ate well and exercised even though it was in fear of being too slow in the event of another fight with the supernatural. Dammit, Steve was healthier than she was. And- and now he isn't?
Steve glanced over at the doctor who understood, heading out of the door. "Hey, uh Robin, I- I'm okay." He sounded like he was struggling to find his words. Or maybe it was just hard to talk to someone you should know but don’t.
But Robin was hurt. Hurt that her platonic soulmate didn’t know her. That he now believes they’re actually engaged. And she wasn't sure if she should say anything because she didn’t know this Steve. She moves to sit on the side of his bed but she stops. She hesitates and takes the chair next to his bed instead. She looks up at him and chokes on her words, “Please don't tell me you're okay when I know you're not."
Steve smiles and it's the tired one she knew all too well. "Yeah... but if I keep saying it, maybe we'll believe it." And it's so stupid that she laughs. He grins all dopey and it makes the tears fall.
She takes his hand and he holds it tightly. “What- How much time is gone?” She asks and the doctor looks up from Steve’s chart.
Steve clears his throat, “um. I- don’t-“
The doctor cuts Steve off, “He’s lost a few years. His last memory of November 1984.”
That hits Robin even harder. Out that door, we’re the people Steve grew closer to after 84. He became closer to Dustin in 84. She nodded jerkily, “could I talk to him alone?” She asked and the doctor gave her a look before heading out.
Robin felt at least a little better that it was just her and Steve. "Hey,” he says and it’s all soft. Like he knows he should love her but he’s not sure.
She sniffs and takes a deep breath, “Hey. Uh, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say, honestly.” She murmured and he nodded slightly. He looked so hesitant to talk to her that it made her want to scream.
“So… fiancé?” He asked and she looked over at him. He gave her a small smile at that. “Cool, cool, uh so,” and he was nervous. Then his eyes drifted down to the ring on her finger.
But then his brow furrowed. “I know that ring… how- isn’t that Eddie Munson’s?” He asked and her eyes blew wide.
“Uh… so um, yes?” her voice squeaked and his brow furrowed. She took a shaky breath. “How did you- oh never mind. I’m going to- I’m just going to trust that you're still my Steve even if you haven’t- we haven’t even met yet.”
His brow furrowed even more, “you sit behind me in class. Sure, I never spoke to you. But like, I can recognize your face.”
Which okay, what? “Really?” She asked and he shrugged.
“I mean sure, I asked you for a pencil just the other day-“ He stopped and just kind of froze.
She nodded to herself, her dingus was in there somewhere. “We’re not actually engaged. But um, none of us are actually family out there. And well you and I actually went to Indy a few days ago pretending to be a couple planning a wedding for free cake tasting. So I figured you wouldn’t mind if I said it. And I stole Eddie’s ring 'cause he’s out there too, he’s your friend. My friend. Lots of people think we’re dating but we’re not. We’re friends. Really good friends. You and Eddie along with another of our friends actually just got a house together. Well, I say house but it’s just an apartment.” She rambled and he just listened. No matter what version of Steve she got, he always seemed to listen to her.
She sniffed, “So, how about I give you a recap?" He looked relieved as Robin got started. She rambled on and on about what she knew from others about his senior year, before she started on Starcourt and their meeting. She quietly mentions how the Upside Down came back in 85 and how the two of them had gotten wrapped up in a Russian coverup which just made Steve look tired. He didn’t even look surprised, he just groaned when she mentioned that Dustin brought him into that too. Then she rushed over to the end and talked about getting a job at Family Video. How he and her spent a lot of time together at his place. How she took over the spare bedroom across from his. She talked and talked, but as it got to the last attack, she hesitated.
She couldn't hide the attack, not when Steve had the scars to prove it. But could she at least spare him some of the details? So she skimmed over Vecna, "The Upside Down did come back but El was able to finish it once and for all." She said softly and he didn't like it but he also didn't push for more. Instead, she gives more happy updates. Leaving the worst parts out. And Steve just listens quietly, asking her questions here and there. So, Robin did her best even if she was crying silently as she explained everything.
"Robin," Steve murmured and she leaned down, sitting next to him on the bed. "I'm sorry for worrying you."
She flicked him on the forehead, "Don't be. Just- I'll always worry so next time don’t make it a surprise?" She tried to demand but it came out too soft and too nervous.
Steve leaned into her, not out of the desire for her comfort but more because he was too tired to stay upright any longer. “I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. It… it’s nice that I have someone like you.”
“A friend?”
His smile was sad, “someone who cares about me.” Her words stuck in her throat and she desperately wished she could go back in time and give Steve a friend a long time ago.
She threads their fingers and tries to keep her tears silent as he slowly falls asleep on her shoulder. The doctor returned when he was out cold and did a few final checkups, along with a few tips on how to help him. She already knew that he had a pair of glasses but the news about his hearing aids was new. It surprised her that he went without her. But... she tried not to let it bother her. Even if she had to basically tie him to a hospital bed after Vecna. But it didn’t matter too much because she would be there anyways.
And when the doctor okayed more visitors Dustin, Eddie, Nancy, Hopper, and Joyce all made an appearance. With Steve still slumbering and her tear tracks on her face, they looked worried. Robin didn't let go of Steve's hand even though she got some looks at the ring. Nancy moves and takes her other hand, standing by her side as Robin gets ready to tell them the news. Eddie stays next to Nancy and Dustin while Joyce and Hopper take the other side of the bed. “Is he okay?” Dustin asks and his voice is so small.
Robin sniffles and holds Steve’s hand a little tighter. She wants his support in this. But right now, she needs to support him. So, she takes a deep breath and starts to explain it all.
Eddie takes it the hardest. Slipping into a chair like his legs wouldn't hold him anymore. But Robin understood. All of her time with Steve was gone too. Steve had nothing but her word of their lives together. No memories. Nothing but a familiar face from school. "He's okay but- but the doctor says he'll probably have more episodes because of this one. He- he hit the ground really hard and they, well they think that probably didn't help. But apparently, he's already started working on a plan with the doctor and he's been having small ones since spring break. He-"
Robin pictured Steve running towards her to help. His ax not doing much to stop the vines before they grabbed him. How he had been slammed into the wall across from her. How she had thought about dying. How if she could just die before having to watch Steve die, she would be happier. But they had lived. They lived but Steve didn't get away without permanent damage.
"He told the doctors that it happened the same night as the big showdown with Vecna. They thought it had to be because of the tremors. But I-" She shook her head, unable to find the words. Dustin looked so lost and so young. "But he's going to be okay." She said and she hoped they all could believe it. "We've just got to give him time. See if he'll remember on his own. I gave him a recap but... I left out a lot of details."
They all went silent before Hopper moved, getting out of the room. Joyce hesitated for a moment before following him out. Robin just sat there, holding onto Steve like he was going to slip out of her grasp. "Is- did he..." Eddie tried but he couldn't seem to find the words.
They sat in silence until Steve shifted, waking up. "Robin?" He groaned, pushing away from her. It hurt. it really did. They never pushed away from each other anymore. Not once they got comfortable with each other. After Vecna, all of their (admittedly limited) boundaries were just gone. She's even taken a shower with him. Granted they were running late to work and kept telling each other not to look but... she's seen everything there was to see about Steve, inside and out. They cuddled. They held each other. They didn't push each other away.
Still, she tried not to let it bother her. Even if she knew Eddie saw right through it. "Morning, dingus," she murmured and Steve huffed a laugh.
"So, we're best friends and you call me a dingus?" Steve questioned, his eyes not truly open yet. She took note of Eddie's hesitance, how he looked at the door like he should run, and Dustin's nerves, how he tapped his fingers on his arm in a fast beat.
Robin swallowed, "Not just a dingus, dingus. Your my dingus. The dingus." Steve laughed and finally opened his eyes.
He looked over at her but saw Dustin, Nancy, and Eddie behind her. He hesitates at the sight of Nancy, his eyes going back to Robin. An old heartbreak new and fresh in his eyes. And yeah… they had just broken up, haven’t they? Steve clears his throat, "Um, hey, dipshit." He says towards Dustin who moved fast, slamming into Steve. "Whoa, hey, it's okay. You're okay. I'm-"
"But you're not!" Dustin interrupted. "You're not okay! You had a seizure and it wasn’t even your first one. And you never once said anything about it. You just pretended everything was fine as you went to the doctor alone. You don’t get to tell me it’s okay because you- you’re not okay.”
Steve paused at that and he looked over at Robin before his gaze settled on Dustin. He pushed Dustin up, something the old Steve had done. One that wasn’t good with touch because he had been starved of it for so long. Her Steve never did that anymore. He hugged and touched freely. Never hesitating after Vecna almost got Max and Eddie. Steve had been freaked out over Dustin’s broken ankle too. He held the kid close and never once pushed him away after he realized how close Dustin had been to death. But this Steve didn’t have those memories. And he once again pushed them away.
Dustin let out this hurt sound but he let himself be separated from Steve. “I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything. But I probably had it handled. I’m not an idiot and can handle my own injuries, I always do.” Steve crosses his arms and he looks away from them. Robin blinks as she tries to think back to after Starcourt. How did Steve deal with the injuries the last time? She was sure that she and Dustin were always there, even Erica stopped by to check on him. Then she remembers her sobbing on Steve’s shoulder as they curled up in his bed after a nightmare. How she told him that she could hear him scream and tell them the truth and how she couldn’t do anything about it. How guilty she had felt… it was after that, that Steve let her help him get better.
“We don’t let you do that.” Eddie snapped and it was the first time he had spoken. “No way in hell. If we did, you’d be in the hospital for infection because you refused to take care of yourself. You don’t get to say that other people have it worse so you don’t have to take care of yourself. That won’t fucking fly anymore.”
And Steve just stared jaw slack. Robin distantly wondered if Eddie kept going on like that if it would trigger the sexuality crisis that shoving him against a wall in the boat house did. “What the fuck? I’m sorry, why the fuck would you get a say, Munson?”
Eddie’s hands threw up into the air, “Because I’m your friend! I’m your friend and even if you can’t remember, that doesn’t change. You sat by my bedside when I was in here so it’s my turn.”
Nancy nodded, “We’re right here for you Steve. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed, “Right. But you seem to be under the impression that I want your help, Nancy. I don’t. I- I don't even understand why you're here. I thought all I was, was bullshit to you.” Steve spit out and Nancy flinched back.
“Steve- okay I was wrong. I was very wrong to do any of that. I didn’t blame you. Honestly, I just took out my own issues on you. I told you that you didn’t love me and that… you were bullshit because I couldn’t say it to myself. I told you off for trying to support me and give me an escape. I didn’t want to ignore the bad I wanted to make it better. But all I did was make things worse between us. I really- I wanted to love you but I didn't and I took that out on you. I’m sorry,” Nancy says and they all stare at her in awe.
She took Robin’s hand and took a shaky breath. “You and Robin helped me honestly. I didn’t see platonic relationships for what they could be until I saw you and Robin. You helped me understand that while I liked both men and women. I only ever wanted to date women. That I didn’t get that same emotional connection with guys. And I’m sorry about that.”
Steve blinked at her. “Oh, um… wow. Yeah uh.” He seemed lost and kept looking between Robin and Nancy. There was a hurt in his gaze but not one she truly knew. Robin glanced at Dustin who looked shocked but like he was already on board with what was happening. “I- did I make-”
Nancy gave him a small smile, “Steve, dating you and then Jonathan was a good experience that I wouldn’t take back. I wish I could take back how it ended between us but… I can’t. So, I’m sorry. But I did enjoy it in a way, that I can barely wrap my head around.” She said and Robin gave her hand a squeeze.
He looks at the two of them and he takes a deep breath. “I’ve been told that Robin Buckley is my soulmate. Now, I haven’t been able to verify it but I swear to god if you hurt her, Nancy Wheeler, I don’t care I’ll hunt you down and use my nail bat until no one would be able to recognize your corpse.” He says and Robin splutters.
Nancy just smiles and nods, “Less vivid this time.” She says and Robin blinks suddenly aware that Steve had given her a shovel talk already. And this Steve, the one who didn’t even know her, cares enough to give another. Then she realizes that Steve once again accepted her and who she loved just like that.
Her eyes watered and he look over at her. He leans closer to whisper, basically leaning his full weight on her. "I trust that- just don't let her..." He looked like he was trying to find the right words and she grabbed his hand once again. Squeezing it and sending him a smile.
She leaned close to him, "She grew up. Just like you did. I trust her. And well... you will too."
He looked a little wary but then he nodded. He smiled a little, “it seems that we do share a taste in women at the very least.”
Steve leans back once again and he’s got a soft smile on his face. Silently telling her it’s okay. It’s then when Joyce and Hopper return. “Oh honey,” Joyce says as soon as she sees that he’s awake. Hopper is standing a little awkwardly by the door and Joyce moves, kissing the top of his head. “How are you feeling?” She asks and this Steve is easier to overwhelm.
“I’m fine. I feel fine. I’m just tired. I don’t-” he huffs and crosses his arms. It makes Hopper smile though.
Hopper moves over and claps his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. Always tired and never anything worse.” He says and Steve seems to redden under the attention. “You act like I didn’t force you to stay at my cabin when you were healing from 84.”
Steve huffs, blowing his hair out of his face. “That was kidnapping and you know it.”
Hopper smiles, “Good thing I was the chief of police then.”
Steve looks up at him, “You aren’t anymore?”
“Nah, I’m retired. Got enough shush money to live comfortably the rest of my life.” He says and places his other hand on Joyce.
Steve’s eyes follow the movement. His eyebrow slowly rises, “yeah. And does this future have a woman in it?”
Hopper rolls his eyes, “Yes you were right and all that shit. But I’m not letting you rip into me twice.” The man huffs and Robin never saw this side of the two of them. Almost like father and son. She didn’t know that Hopper’s death and return had changed them so much. But she sees that Steve had definitely pulled back after Hopper returned. Maybe he had been scared of losing him again. Or maybe he didn’t even notice. All she knows is that it’s nice to see. And that she’s glad she didn’t mention the older man’s temporary death yet.
So, she sits there quietly, listening to the two bicker back and forth. She can see how Hopper seems to relax into the conversation and Steve is okay. It’s hard to watch. It’s so different. Sure Steve bickers with everyone but this familiarity isn't normal for those two. Not since she’s known him. And she thought she knew him. But apparently, he and Hopper were close before Hopper’s death. And Steve went to the doctor without her.
As it gets late, the doctor returns. He tells them that they’ll have to leave, however, Robin’s allowed to stay. But Steve looks over at her and he just shakes his head, “Can I, I’d just like a night to wrap my head around it.” He asks and she’s silently thankful. It makes her feel sick, that she wants to get away from the person she calls her platonic soulmate. In fact, it’s the first time she’s ever wanted it after they got to know each other. She gives Steve’s hand a quick squeeze before she lets Nancy guide her from the room.
As soon as the door shuts behind her, tears are welling up. “Robin?” Joyce’s voice is soft as she looks at her. A sob breaks free and Nancy’s fast to catch her as her legs give out. She’s crying for the person she knew and for the one she didn’t. She’s crying because she doesn’t know what to do. Her hands cover her face and she cries. And it’s like a bomb goes off. Dustin’s crying too and Eddie’s pretending he isn’t as he holds the kid. Hopper is standing taller, trying to keep himself in check. Joyce and Nancy with Robin as she chokes out sobs. Her hands are shaking and she’s not sure what she can do. If she can do anything but this.
“He doesn’t know me,” she finally says and it hurts to admit. “He doesn’t know me and I- I don’t know him.” And suddenly, the words don’t stop. They’re falling from her lips like rocks thrown into the quarry. Large and moving fast before they hit the water with a loud splash. It’s loud and filled with teenage angst. She feels so young and she wants Steve to tell her it’s going to be fine but he’s in there… he’s not in there. The others are helping her outside and the warm air of summer feels overwhelming. But all she can do is hold onto Joyce and Nancy a little harder. They help her to Nancy’s vehicle and she curls up in the front seat, tears not coming anymore but her feelings still there. She just stays there trying her best not to start crying again.
Nancy brings her home and Nancy’s parents aren’t surprised to see her. But they are surprised to see the state of her. She hears Karen say something but she’s too out of it to respond. She feels like a shell of who she was and as Nancy pauses to open her door, Mike steps out of his room. “Robin?” He asks and Nancy shoots him a look that Robin doesn’t bother trying to catch. But then Mike’s helping Nancy get her into bed and she curls up as soon as she touches the mattress. “What happened?” Mike tries to ask and Nancy pulls him out of the room. Leaving Robin alone for the first time since…
She blinks at her hands. Her fingers were longer than Steve’s. Not by much but Steve’s were thicker. They were steadier. She remembered going over to Steve’s for dinner one night. His parents were home for the first time in a few months and he had invited her to join them. She had learned then, that Steve had been taught piano. She had sat next to him on the piano bench after his mom basically demanded a show. She watched his fingers dance across the keys. He had tried to teach her a simple piece and she had laughed as her fingers stumbled. But they were able to play a shitty version of Heart and Soul. She had watched Steve’s parents dance together. It had been obvious that these were the people who raised Steve.
They hadn’t been perfect. Too caught up in their own world to realize their actions caused harm to others. Steve had told her how they were childhood sweethearts but with his dad gone all the time, he had started to lose that love. His mom had fought for it. Going off with him, proving that she was still the one he fell in love with. Their love had rekindled. But their love was never meant for any more than just the two of them. That they couldn't share that love for very long. That Steve... Steve would never get that love from them because it was used up already. That Steve's birth had almost ruined their relationship.
It hurt to hear and it had hurt Steve to explain. But he told her that’s why it was so hard to let Nancy go. That he wanted to have what his parents had. That he grew up seeing their love and the pain that showed at their partings. He had laughed, tired and bitter, saying he wasn’t meant for that type of love. Robin secretly agreed. Steve had so much love to give, it could never be given to only one person. It would always spill over to others.
Steve enjoyed being around people, the social butterfly to Robin’s wallflower. He would have a big family and never tire of them. But she didn’t say that, she just told him that he’d find love one day. It didn’t stop being possible just because he wasn’t in high school anymore. They had pressed their hands together and compared themselves to each other. Falling asleep in a tangle of limbs.
She choked on a sob at the realization that Steve didn’t remember that conversation. That conversation was gone and it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t remember telling her that nor would he remember her words. She was startled as Nancy crawled into bed. She laid down facing her. Robin reached out and pressed her hand against Nancy’s. Her fingertips could slightly curl over Nancy’s fingers and she let out a sob. She grabbed her hand and just pulled her into her arms. Holding her close and just asking her what she was going to do now. What could she do now?
Part 2 | Part 3
#I guess i decided to write it#Just wait for the second part#stranger things#platonic stobin#platonic with a capital p#hurt steve harrington#hurt robin buckley#memory loss#Steve Harrington has head trauma#the party is a family#everyone loves steve#hurt/comfort#steve harrington angst#mostly angst in this part honestly#it might get better#ronance#knightly talks
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Rodimus x Professional!Reader Pt. 1
The first part is from Reader's POV and the second will be from Rodimus' POV.
Parts:
Part 2- https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/712534482204377088/rodimus-x-professionalreader-pt-2?source=share
Part 3- https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/712534804211662848/rodimus-x-professionalreader-pt-3?source=share
----
Hot water beat down on your back as you rested your head on the shower wall. Everything ached. From your toes to your scalp you felt like one massive bruise. It wasn’t uncommon for you to get back to your quarters feeling drained and tired. Ever since the Lost Light had taken on human crew members your hands had been full, especially following your commander's death. A day that still weighed something fierce on your heart. You’d had to step up- despite the fact that you hadn’t been next in line to lead at all. There had been too much panic, too much grief, and you had done what you had always done in the face of terrible personal tragedy and chaos. You’d buckled down and taken over. Somehow that had led to you being promoted as the human liaison to the captain of the Lost Light. It was an honor certainly but it was something you struggled with. All that responsibility on your shoulders, Commander Jameson had grown livid when the promotion had passed over him and went to you instead. His contempt and judgment was yet another thing that weighed you down. He made it clear that he had little to no respect for you or your new position. It had led to endless fights over the tiniest things that shouldn’t have been fights in the first place.
Sighing heavily you blinked past the water running down your face. The need for actual running water on the Lost Light had been Commander Hennis’ first petition when you’d come aboard and after her death it had only been right for you to continue that petition. You were grateful for it. Slicking your hair back you took another moment to simply breathe. One deep breath in and then the slow exhale. Shutting off the spray you blindly reached for your towel. Wrapping the soft fluffy thing around yourself you relished its warmth as you stepped out of the tub and into the slightly cooler room. You cursed when you realized you’d left your sleep clothes on your bed. Stepping into the main portion of your room you froze, the blood draining from your face so quickly you almost felt light headed. Clutching the towel tightly to yourself you straightened up immediately. Shit, you were way too underdressed, your hair was still wet and tangled, you were wearing a towel.
“Captain!” You resisted the urge to salute if only because you feared losing your towel. Rodimus froze, optics wide as he glanced down at you. Jesus, you could die of mortification.
“I-,” His voicebox made an odd sound you could only describe as a radio dial, “I didn’t realize you were here.”
“I thought to get an early night, Sir.” Oh you just wanted to curl into a ball and die. This was so unprofessional. God, you even planned your own pajamas to be professional in case of an emergency. Why did he have to walk in now? Why did you forget your clothes on your bed? You glanced at your folded clothes and felt a new mortification rising when you realized you’d done like you usually did and placed your underwear on top. Your very nice, lacey, underwear that you rarely got the chance to wear and only decided to wear tonight to make yourself feel nice. As a secret little pick-me-up that only you would know about. The red stood out starkly against your grey sweats and space program t-shirt, the clothes far too professional to even consider what you might be wearing underneath. Even the sports bra you’d chosen was cute with its little lacey front and tiny decorative bow. As if sensing your mortification you could only observe in horror as Rodimus followed your gaze to the clothes you’d plainly laid out. If it were even possible it was as if he froze and locked up more than previously.
Was- was he blushing?!
Your face was officially on fire you were simply going to kill yourself. Anything to escape the mortification. Your co-captain, your liaison partner, knew what you were going to wear to bed and he’d been around human culture long enough to understand exactly why you might have been embarrassed. Grasping at straws like it was all you could do, you tried to regain control of the situation.
“Ahem,” You cleared your throat drawing his attention back to you, “Was there a particular reason you were coming into my quarters Captain?”
Rodimus straightened up quickly his grip on his holopad tightening.
“Ah- yes. There was- well… Ahem. To be honest-,” He was stammering, god you were never going to live down the embarrassment, “I wanted your opinion on a transfer I’ve been considering.”
“A transfer?”
“Yes. One of the humans here.”
That wiped the embarrassment straight from your system. Technically Rodimus could transfer whoever he wished at any point so long as Megatron signed off on said transfer. It had been an unspoken rule since Commander Hennis’ and since your own tenure that all human transfers were to be decided by the human liaison. For Rodimus to even consider transferring a human without giving the full reigns to you must have been serious.
“May I ask the reason for transfer?”
“Insubordination.” The way he said it left little room to question. His voice was grave and serious in a way you rarely heard from your usually compassionate companion. Clearly this was not a decision he had made lightly.
“And the crewmember?” You asked after a moment when it became clear he was not going to elaborate.
“Commander Jameson.”
“What?” You asked the question slipping out before you could help it. To say you were shocked was an understatement. You had thought that Commander Jameson had been wise enough to keep his displeasure and insubordination pointed towards you and you only.
“I think it would be best for both the crew and for Commander Jameson himself if he were placed with a different vessel.”
“My apologies then Captain, I had thought that Commander Jameson had merely been targeting me due to the promotional passover that occurred following Commander Hennis’ passing. I hadn’t a clue that he’d been lashing out towards other higher-ups. Please allow me to talk to him and discuss these matters, I shall ensure he keeps his issues with the chain of command solely with me.”
“That’s the problem!” Rodimus shouted, waving his arm through the air. You jumped. “He shouldn’t be treating you that way in the first place! You received the promotion because you earned it. Your crew would have been killed if you hadn’t made the calls you did and kept a level head. While Commander Jameson was too busy trying to prove himself you were putting in the actual work. You brought your crew together, you led them into action, you pulled them through that dark time. Not him! I am tired of hearing his baseless complaints about your leadership. You’ve gone above and beyond what was expected of you for the sake of your human crew and your cybertronian companions!”
You could feel the flush traveling from your cheeks all the way to your shoulders the flattery soothing a sore spot you had been nursing for a while now. But still, despite Jameson’s clear dislike of you, you had a duty to him as his superior.
“I understand that Rodimus and I thank you for your conviction of my skills,” You replied soothingly, adjusting your hold on your towel, “However, I have a duty to my crew. Commander Jameson’s grievances are with me and me alone. Outside of that he has followed all his orders from other officers to a perfect T. Unless there are incidents I haven’t been informed of..?” You trailed off waiting for a reply.
“... No. He’s followed orders from other crew members well enough.” Rodimus admitted begrudgingly. You offered him a sincerely sympathetic smile.
“Then I owe him the chance to discuss options with me first before the call is made for him. If he wishes to transfer then I will be happy to have him transferred, but if he wishes to stay then that decision should be respected as well.”
That was clearly not what he wanted to hear. Rodimus’ expression turned stony, every bit the captain he had to be instead of the mech you had gotten to know.
“Please let him know that if he fails to follow your direct orders again he will be transferred regardless.” His voice was cold, a sort of anger that sent chills down your spine. You’d never heard anything like it. From Megatron you might have been able to keep the surprise off your face but from Rodimus? The change was too intense not to show your shock. “I’ve transferred the documents to you for review. Good night.”
Just like that he was gone leaving you standing there shivering from the cold in your towel wondering what had gotten into the normally sunny optimistic mech. Swallowing nervously you shuffled towards your pajamas and got dressed. Everything would have to wait until the morning but already anxiety was beginning to set in. What would you do about this? What could be done to fix it? If you didn’t know him so well by now you would have thought Rodimus was angry with you, but you knew that despite what had happened his anger was directed towards Jameson. With a deep breath you sat on your bed and tried to relax. You’d get this sorted out just like you always did. It would be fine. And then you could talk with Rodimus about why it had upset him the way it did.
#rodimus x reader#mtmte rodimus#transformers#this is a two part fic#But I'm gonna have to wait til tomorrow to post the part 2#sorry guys#reader insert#Honestly I could be persuaded into making this a series if someone wants#but we'll see how well this part and the second part go lol#First transformers fic#I hope people enjoy it as much as I did#honestly I love transformers and should write more for them#there are so few fics it seems like#we should fix that lol#feel free to request stuff from me!#It takes me a while but I do work on them#No fancy title for this one sorry guys that might change if anyone has ideas
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You know I actually never realized this before-- so you remember how tri. retconned Original Chosen fighting and defeating Apocalymon into them fighting the Dark Masters instead? (To be fair it is possible they could've ALSO fought Apocalymon afterwards but that isn't the Epic Final Showdown tri. decided to depict so it's borderline a retcon)
If the Original 5 Chosen fought and defeated the Dark Masters once in the distant past, doesn't that mean that
A) They survived and hid for just a few thousand years until they came back for a Round 2 at conquering the world
B) They died, were reborn, and THEN went for the Round 2
You know I've just DYING with curiosity, desperately wanting to know if any of the villians in Adventure would ever be reborn after Adventure, right. Because according to the lore they should, right (unless their data was like somehow absorbed by Apocalymon and destroyed along with him (though that would still leave Piemon as an exception (and Vamdemon but we all know what happened to him) and the sole survivor))
And what tri. has essentially done is confirm that most of them should, in fact, be reborn sooner or later
But that just raises the question of if Apocalymon was lowkey driving the Dark Masters nuts (as suggested by the novels), and if tri. was kind of about destroying the last remnants of Apocalymon's data (within Meicoomon), if they were reborn this time would they be free of Apocalymon's influence
If so, would their third (?) lives then turn out different? Would they still try to take over the world all over again for funsies (this time just without Apocalymon giving them power etc), or were they just the same as Ken was in Zero Two? I mean Apocalymon was supposed to be a spawn of Milleniummon and Ken was infected with Mille's malice directly, so while it may have been a bit filtered it was still the same source of malice and corruption, right
And like regardless of how their next lives would turn out, shouldn't the kids (OR AT THE VERY FUCKING LEAST GENNAI) like realize that this is going to happen eventually and like. Go and see if they can find them (either as their pre-Ultimate forms or even when they're still in their Eggs) and try to figure out what to do BEFORE shit hits the fan
I JUST
#Sorry I'm rewatching the second half of Adventure while working (it improves my focus actually) and#Oh the brainworms are real#Text post#I'm sorry I'm just thinking about Pinocchimon. My sweet poor murder child just needed friends 😭#But even if he was reborn without the craving for blood- who would be friends with him. After all he did in his past life#Who would want to be friends with him. Who would forgive him#IS HE GONNA BE DOOMED TO BE ALONE FOREVER. I'M 😭😭😭#Meanwhile for all we know Piemon is still stuck in that other dimension 10 years later lmao#Depending on if tri.'s reboot ever affected him at all or not because god fucking knows we'll never find out#(Or if he even COULD be affected by the reboot to begin with. God knows Wizarmon seemed to be fucking IMMUNE to it)#(Even though it was supposed to reset EVERYBODY)#But also that could have horrifying implications too if Piemon was just left to cook overnight with a part of Apocalymon#Like Apocalymon is just a collection of grudge and hate from Digimon who've gone extinct right#What's stopping that part of Apocalymon from just restarting the collection of hatred and grudge all over again#This time using Piemon as a vessel to just contain it#Like Apocalymon came from beyond the Wall of Fire to begin with so it's not like dimensional barriers should stop him either#I mean the good news is that there probably haven't been that many Digimon species that've gone extinct after Adventure#But still kids. Y'all might have a timebomb on your hands#Edited to remove some of excessive cursing lmao. I was feeling very intense when writing this sorry lmao
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