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#He will be perfect to HURT and COMFORT
steddieas-shegoes · 10 months
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hiiii could i possibly request something with the good ol' "steve is insecure with his place in the group/his intelligence/his worth compared to the rest of the party" cliche with reassurances in the form of copious amounts of cuddles and kisses and pet names from eddie? you're so great for doing these and i'm eagerly waiting for the next chapter of call me sunshine <3
Not Steve "self-doubt" Harrington convincing himself he can't be loved because he doesn't fit in or provide "useful" things to the group!!! I am lowkey hoping someone maybe adds to make this explicit because something about them having to be quiet in a tent just sounds like it has potential idk. Eddie is so in love in this it makes me SICK. - Mickala ❤️ (@scoops-stevie)
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When Steve suggested that they do something fun together for the weekend, he meant maybe going into the city or renting a lake house maybe.
He definitely didn’t mean camping.
Outdoor camping was Dustin’s idea, and all the kids had agreed quickly. Robin bowed out the moment she could come up with a decent excuse and he could tell that Eddie wanted to do the same but wouldn’t abandon him.
Hopefully.
Eddie had quietly offered to steal another RV, but Steve turned it down.
“You just started getting back in the good graces of most of the town, let’s not give them a reason to hate you again.”
So they packed up the van with all the camping supplies they collectively had: three tents (one for the girls, one for the boys, one for Steve and Eddie), a couple coolers full of drinks and food, a few chairs, flashlights, sleeping bags, and clothes.
Steve wasn’t great at reading maps, so he let Dustin ride passenger to help Eddie find where they were going.
He sat with the girls, mostly because he liked the way they just ignored everyone and everything and talked amongst each other about mundane things.
He may not always understand what they’re talking about, but he liked being a part of it.
He almost never understood what they were talking about actually.
But it was better than having everything the boys were talking about go right over his head.
Especially when they started arguing about stuff and talked so fast that Steve had no chance of keeping up.
Steve just kind of watched as everyone around him had conversations.
He tried not to think about how everyone was existing without him in a way.
He was here, but he wasn’t needed.
—-----------------------
When they arrived at the campsite, it was even more secluded than they thought it would be.
It was also only a couple hours until sunset and they all had to make sure the tents were set up properly before it was too dark to see.
Steve got started with his tent while Eddie helped the girls. Max still had limited movement in her wrists so she was given the task of setting the chairs around the fire pit that Lucas and Mike had formed.
Steve was struggling.
He’d only put up one tent before, and it was at summer camp where the counselor and four other boys had been helping. In all honesty, he’d pretty much managed to watch the whole time instead of help.
He would manage to get part of it up, but it would fall apart when he tried to do the other side. He kept losing the pieces to keep it tied down to the ground.
He was losing against an inanimate object.
Everyone else was doing fine; Joking and laughing and finishing up their tasks like they didn’t have to put all their focus into one thing at a time.
El wordlessly started helping him, and he knew she wasn’t judging him, but he couldn’t help the small part of his brain that was telling him that she thought he was stupid.
He was quiet for the rest of the evening.
They cooked hot dogs over the fire that Will started, then made s’mores since El had never had them before.
He watched and listened, smiled when everyone else was.
But he felt overcome with sadness that he just didn’t belong here.
He was the babysitter, he took care of them, and drove them around, and helped them survive alternate dimension monsters.
He didn’t know how to talk to them about the stuff they liked, or play their stupid dragon game. He could barely keep up with half the things they said.
“Hey guys, I’m gonna turn in for the night,” he said suddenly, interrupting something Mike had been saying to everyone.
Everyone looked at him with sad looks, but Eddie looked concerned.
“You okay? Is it a headache?” He asked.
Damn, he hadn’t even thought of a good excuse. At least Eddie was providing him one for free.
“Yeah, just a little one. I think if I sleep now it’ll be fine by morning.”
The taste of the lie in his mouth made his lip curl slightly. The words “friends don’t lie” replayed in his brain as he stood up and made his way to his tent at the far end of their setup.
No one tried to stop him, but he could feel their eyes on him as he unzipped his tent and then zipped it back up behind him.
They’d set up lamps inside each tent so that they could reserve flashlights for bathroom trips or emergencies. His was the kind you can dim, so he did. He took off his shoes and jeans, changing into the t-shirt he brought from home that was probably Eddie’s now that he was looking closer at it.
He’d brought his pillow from home because he couldn’t possibly sleep flat on the ground, and Eddie had brought one of his own because he still had some back pains when he slept wrong.
He curled up in his sleeping bag, holding Eddie’s pillow against his chest.
He felt a tear start to run down his face without his permission, not even sure why he was crying right now.
He heard the zipper and tried to shut his eyes quickly, hide his face in the pillow in hopes that Eddie would think he was really asleep.
“Hey darlin’. Mind if I join?” Eddie whispered.
Steve couldn’t ignore him, so he nodded and started to move the pillow from his chest and face.
“Oh, sweetheart. Why are you crying?”
Steve shook his head. He couldn’t even begin to explain.
“Can I hold you?”
Steve let out a sob, and Eddie didn’t wait for him to answer.
He was laying down next to Steve, pulling him against his chest and running his hands up and down his back.
“Is it a migraine? Do you need me to get some ice from the cooler? Or medicine from the van?”
“No, not a migraine.”
“Okay. Is it just a bad night?”
Steve couldn’t help the fondness he felt at that.
Eddie was so understanding, and incredible, and perfect. Steve didn’t deserve him just like he didn’t deserve the rest of these people.
“Stevie, it’s okay to have a bad night. Sometimes they just happen, right? That’s what you always tell me.”
Eddie’s hand had found its way to Steve’s hair, slowly running through the strands, occasionally looping the ends around a finger.
It sent chills down Steve’s spine when his fingers brushed against his neck so gently.
“I just don’t belong here.”
“I’ll admit the outdoors is not really my favorite place either, but-”
“No, not. Not the outdoors. Here. With everyone.”
“Why wouldn’t you?” Eddie’s hand had frozen in his hair and on his back.
“I’m not smart. I’m not good at putting things together or fixing things. I can’t even be in most of their conversations. They keep me around because they don’t know how to get rid of me. I mean, they don’t even need a babysitter anymore!”
Steve’s tears were dripping onto Eddie’s shirt, making a mess.
Another reason he shouldn’t be around.
Eddie tilted his face up, nothing but love in his eyes.
“I want you to listen to me. You are needed in this group. You are wanted in this group. You are loved in this group. Do you really think a bunch of teenagers would be wasting a weekend camping with you when they could be going to the movies or the arcade or getting into trouble?”
Steve didn’t answer, but he sniffled as he watched Eddie get more passionate.
“And it is absolute bullshit that you’re not smart. How many times have you been the one to figure out something, whether it was during Upside Down shit or not? How many times have you been the one with common sense? You’re more than a babysitter, my love. You’ve always been more than that to all of them.”
They laid there in silence for a few minutes, Steve soaking in Eddie’s words as Eddie continued to comfort him in the way he needed.
“I just feel like I need to be more useful. I don’t want them to get bored or annoyed because I can’t be part of their world,” he finally said, his voice shaking.
“Angel, they love you for who you are. Just like I love you for who you are. You fit where you fit because that’s what the group needs. They don’t need another Dustin to always make connections because of one obscure fact relating to something he read once when he was nine. They don’t need another El to fight their battles.They need the Steve who is going to go along with whatever they want to do so he can protect them if and when things go wrong. They need the Steve who is always there to support them even with the most mundane things.”
“I couldn’t even set up the tent by myself.”
“None of us could. I had help. That’s why I told El to help you. None of us can do stuff alone, love. You’re putting expectations on yourself that no one else is putting on you.”
Steve shuddered.
He’d been pretty famous for doing that for years.
Once his parents stopped caring at all, he started caring too much.
And now he expected more of himself than anyone else ever would.
He’d set himself up to fail. At least in his own eyes.
“Did that finally get into that concussed brain of yours?” Eddie said, smirk evident in his tone.
Steve playfully slapped his chest and hid his face against his tear-soaked shirt.
“I guess maybe it did. A little,” he said.
“Good. You know I love you more than the stars, right?”
“And the moon?”
“And the galaxies in space.”
Steve settled further against Eddie’s side.
“I love you, too,” he sighed out, feeling content for probably the first time this entire trip.
In the morning, he’d start over, let his brain rest. He’d make everyone breakfast and then help them all make sure they were prepared for their short hike. He’d pack them sandwiches and extra water bottles in case they ended up walking further than they planned. And when they all got back to the campsite the next night, he’d make s’mores with them.
He’d ignore the voice telling him that he wasn’t enough for any of them, and he’d be enough for himself.
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skitskatdacat63 · 1 month
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"Death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily."
+ process(tw blood)
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Also, look at him, bloody little guy 🥹
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This drawing was inspired by several matador pics :D here and here:
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^ I don't think I'll ever live up to the second one ah. There's several pics of that specific guy just soaked with blood, and I'm uh a bit obsessed with then ITS FUCKED UP I KNOW OKAY! But I've not drawn blood in a while so it was a bit difficult so I added less than I would want to I guess. Also I'm obsessed with how often they kneel in bullfighting?? Like okay who are you arching your back and spreading your legs for-
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skepsiss · 7 months
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Tooth and Nail - pt3 - Steddie
Part 3/? of this fic request! The concept is Steve being the first to come out as queer and Eddie subsequently being extremely confused and questioning his sexuality because of that. In the previous parts, Eddie messed up majorly (miscommunication and idiot boy behaviour), and in the 2nd part, he had a proper breakdown over his identity with Wayne there to support him. Reading the first 2 parts will make this part more impactful.
Summary: Eddie attempts to talk to Steve about everything that has happened.
14A ish rating. TW: Lots of swearing, minor internal homophobia (he is getting better with each post), mention of discrimination / real-life danger to queer folks, mention of death (canon character death S4), mention of injury (canon Steve S3 injuries), general tension, and anxiety.
PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4
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Eddie hardly left his room in the proceeding days. He had skipped band practice which had the guys beating down his door asking if he had died. He had refused to come out and eventually Wayne had turned them away politely. 
Eddie wasn’t in the mood to talk to anybody; he'd found it difficult enough to sit alone with his thoughts let alone try and communicate what was going on in his head. It felt like all his thoughts were tangled together like a nest of cables, which would make his brain some kind of broken amp or something equally as loud. It was hard to tame it and eventually, Eddie had resigned himself to confronting Steve about the whole matter. 
Uncle Wayne’s advice had been to communicate how confused he was, but that had felt like a cop-out; he had wanted to puzzle it out himself, but there didn’t seem to be a better option. Building the courage to go to Steve’s was another matter altogether though. 
A part of Eddie wished it was miserable out; that it had been raining or dreary, foggy, or something equally as moody, but it was late summer and the weather was mild. It didn’t fit his mood and it made Eddie linger on the streets around Steve’s block. He had planned that in part so he could make sure Steve was alone, but genuinely he couldn’t really tell if Steve was there or not. It stressed him out and something told him that if Steve’s mother answered the door Eddie was going to spontaneously shunt through the earth from shame. 
It took a while, but as Eddie raised his hand to try knocking again he heard the handle on the door click. 
It took 4 cigarettes and a muttered pep-talk for Eddie to finally muster the courage to walk up the too-long path to the Harrington household. He had only been here sparingly before now and never while Steve’s parents were in town. He felt like a hooligan just stepping onto their driveway and he had no clue how Steve could even sleep in this place. It was like a photo out of a magazine: sterile and prime with no room for mistakes. None of that mattered right now, but it didn’t help Eddie’s mood at all either.
Nervously Eddie rapped on the front door and waited. He shifted uncomfortably and stuffed his hands in his pockets while looking over his shoulder as if he was committing some kind of crime by just being here. It felt like he was performing some kind of sting operation; like the police had him wired and he had to risk his life walking into a den of thieves to nark on them.
He watched Steve pull the door open and was only able to register his look of surprise before the door was shut in his face again.
“Steve, hey, uh–!” Eddie tried, moving forward to bang his hand on the door slightly, his tone desperate.
“Steve! Come on, man, I just want to talk,” Eddie explained, trying to see through the frosted glass into the front entrance.
“Go home, Eddie,” Steve said sternly from the other side of the door, “I don’t want an apology.”
Eddie sucked in a breath and closed his eyes, feeling defeated as he stood there pressed up against the wood. So, Steve wouldn’t even hear him out, huh? He had really fucked up–he knew it too, but a part of him had hoped that Steve would at least entertain him. Why would he though? Eddie hadn’t done anything to deserve forgiveness.
Eddie thunked his forehead against the door softly, lingering as he felt his throat tighten and his fingers fist against the wood. Quietly he sank down onto the ground before shifting so his back was against the door. After building himself up–after bawling his eyes out to Wayne and then half a dozen other times alone in his room–he wasn’t even going to get a chance to say his peace. He supposed Steve didn’t owe him that–didn’t owe him anything, actually, but it still sucked. 
He still didn’t hear anything on the other side of the door, so Eddie sucked in a shuttered breath and continued, hoping that at the very least he could relieve some of his own emotions here and now rather than holed up in his room again. 
Eddie tucked in on himself and closed his eyes as a bubble of deficiency rose in his chest. If this was it, then this was it and he couldn’t fuck it up any more than he already had, right? If he never spoke to Steve again he wanted to at least think he had tried.
“Steve?” Eddie asked, tipping his head back against the door again and trying to listen for any signs of movement on the other side. He couldn’t hear anything and he had no idea if Steve was even there, but he hoped he was.
“If you’re there, just listen, okay? You don’t have to say anything… you don’t have to forgive me or anything like that, but I just–I hope you can at least hear this. I know that… I know that you don’t want me to say sorry, so I won’t, or I’ll try not to, but I just… Jesus Christ, I didn’t plan this at all. I mean, I did, I came here, but I didn’t… I couldn’t figure out what to say. I don’t know what to say. I guess that’s what I came here to say, I just… don’t know. Fuck, man, that… if I could take it back I would, and I mean what I said not… what I did. It… it’s–fuck, man. Shit, this is hard–I don’t want… I just… twenty years I’ve been blissfully ignorant of being attracted to anyone but girls and now it just–I don’t know, man. I haven’t figured it out. I’m trying to figure it out, it’s just fucking… hard,” Eddie choked, his throat feeling as if it was going to close the more he tried to explain himself. Saying it all out loud felt terrible, and it sounded just as jumbled as his thoughts were, but at least his words were genuine.
“This is so messed up. It sucks what I said to you and it sucks that I felt like I had to say it, and it sucks that every fucking person in the world is shitty towards queer people. I don’t… I just, it’s fucking scary, you know? I just–it always felt like I could be… that I could use the fact that I’m this one ‘socially acceptable thing’ to be just, I don’t know, some kind of shield or something. I don’t want Will or Robin or you–or anyone having to deal with all that crap from fundamentalist yahoos thinking that being gay or whatever is a sin, or a mental disease or sick or whatever nonsense they're spouting. It just… it felt like I could… that I was able to do something about it. Like, help, or something. Make it more… accepted or normal or whatever–and not boring normal, just… real normal. Like… we’re all just people who cares what we do with our mortal coils, you know? But I’m a fucking hypocrite. I can’t… I don’t care that you’re ga–bisexual, I don’t care–well, I do care, but I don’t care that way. I care in the... because it’s you way, not in the it doesn’t matter way. I… fuck, man. I’d do anything to make sure Will didn’t have to worry about–fucking walking home from school or something, or Robin not being able to be in band or whatever shitty, stupid thing people could have a problem with. It’s the same with Mike or Dustin, or… any of my freaks, hell, I’ve thrown more than a few punches in my day, I know what getting into fights looks like, I know how to talk the game to make sure some twerp can run home in time–I, I’ve–I’ve always been doing it. It doesn’t matter to me why you’re a dork, or a nerd, or a freak, or whatever. We’re just different and it’s fucking stupid that people are scared of us because we’re different. It’s stupid. But I just… I never thought… I didn’t think I was…” Eddie couldn’t say the words as he sat sniffling on Steve’s stoop, pressed up against the doorframe with no idea whether or not he was being heard. Everything felt so heavy and it felt impossible for Steve to understand or care about anything he had to say. God, but he hoped….
“That’s why I’m a hypocrite,” Eddie laughed, the sound wet and bitter, “I’d do anything, and then I’m scared out of my mind to… acknowledge myself in all this. It shouldn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, but when it’s me? God, it’s pathetic. Like I’m some sort of exception to the rule or something. I hate it. I hate that my brain or my ego or whatever can’t just–accept it! I don’t even know what I’m trying to say anymore, I don’t know. I just… Wayne told me to come here and just tell you honestly that I don’t know. That… I guess I’m trying to figure it out, and that I’m a shitbag for doing and saying that crap to you and that… I’m fucking scared.”
Eddie went quiet as he finished speaking and looked up at the sky as a hint of red started to touch the horizon. It looked too bright and too cheerful for the way he felt, and it sucked having to sit there in silence after saying all of that. That was the thing though, wasn’t it? He didn’t come here to be forgiven–as much as he wanted it–he had come here to be honest. He didn’t know, and he didn’t know if or when he’d figure it out, but it sucked that he and Steve were having a fallout because of his ignorance. This was all just consequences for his own actions though, and he was going to have to live with that. 
No noises roused from the other side of the door and as the sky changed from reds to pinks and yellows Eddie eventually got up. He’d take the long way home and walk off the lingering feelings still squeezing around his heart. This wasn’t how he had wanted things to go, but what was he expecting?
Eddie stuffed his hands into his back pockets and loitered for a short time before stealing one last look over his shoulder at the door to Steve’s house.
“I’m going,” Eddie said as if he was speaking to someone, “I know I said I wouldn’t say it, but I am sorry.”
Eddie twisted his lips together and swiped at his cheeks to make sure there were no obvious signs of tears and then slumped his way to the curb. He didn’t look back at the house despite wanting to, despite hoping Steve was still standing on the other side of that door. The truth was he wasn’t sure if he could handle it if he looked back and there was no one there. If he watched as the sun set over an indifferent house in a posh neighbourhood he didn’t belong in. If he was forced to admit that the chapter of his life that had Steve Harrington in it was over and done with and he’d never get a chance to speak to him again…. He wasn’t sure what he would do if that was all true, and he didn’t want to tempt fate by thinking about it. If he looked, it was over, if he kept going maybe–just maybe–he could convince himself this was a pause instead of an end.
Eddie had walked around Hawkins until well after dark. He had lounged and loitered on the fringes of town and ghosted his way through back streets and quiet residential neighbourhoods until he finished his pack of smokes. It hadn’t been full when he started his walk, but it was still more than he should be smoking–a few members of the party had been nagging him to cut back recently and he supposed they had a point. It was hard though and the last few weeks hadn’t been kind to him. 
– - -
With nothing keeping him out and a mind still heavy with emotions Eddie made his way back to the trailer park with his head down and his hands stuffed under his armpits. It was starting to get chilly late at night with summer ending, but it was still too warm out to wear a jacket during the day–and Eddie was not one to think ahead to bring a coat along with him. It didn’t matter, he wasn’t going to get frostbite or anything, it just made his walk more miserable as he eventually walked into the dirty yellow light of Hawkins’ Trailer Park.
Eddie didn't look up as he pushed the flyscreen to the trailer open, keeping his concentration on his shoes as he made his way to his bedroom.
“Eddie,” Wayne said clearly and Eddie waved his hand over his shoulder, still lost in thought.
“Eddie,” Wayne repeated a bit firmer; Eddie sighed before shuffling and turning to face his uncle. He appreciated Wayne more than anyone else in the world, but he didn’t have it in him to have a conversation right now–
Did this mean that Steve had heard what he had to say? Or had he shown up on his own? Or was it that he had just heard Eddie when he first knocked and then his whole speech was lost to time?
Eddie blinked hard as he focused on what was before him–who was before him. Steve was seated on the edge of the couch, his hands clasped between his knees and his elbows resting on his thighs as he hunched forward. He was looking at Eddie who was stunned, his gaze slowly shifting towards his uncle standing in the kitchen with a coffee mug in his hands. Wayne looked bothered, or concerned perhaps, but there was a gentleness to him that suggested he was wishing for the best.
“Someone here to see you,” Wayne offered quietly before walking over to Steve’s side and placing the mug down on the TV dinner table. He walked away without saying anything else and Eddie stood rooted to the spot, not sure what to say.
The quiet of the trailer drew out between them; Steve had long since looked away and was staring across the room with an unreadable expression. He was sipping the coffee slightly and looked almost like a troubled father waiting for bad news. Eddie was just standing there. It felt like if he moved the whole scene was going to fall apart and he’d stick his foot in his mouth. Make things worse, again. 
Eddie could feel his palms sweating as he thought about having to repeat himself and dredge up those emotions again. It had taken 7 cigarettes and a 2 hour walk to settle him the first time, what would it take this time? Mercifully, Steve spoke up finally and Eddie sucked in a breath to try and settle his nerves.
“Took you a long time to get back,” Steve commented and Eddie swallowed all the subtext that sentence could imply.
“Uh, I just wanted to… clear my mind. Were you waiting long?” He asked, feeling like some kind of damsel in a prime-time soap opera or something. Were you waiting long: that sounded so dramatic and wistful. 
It was quiet for some time until they reached the edge of the trailer park and Steve led them onto the road. This stretch was well-lit, but it still made Eddie feel uneasy with the history attached to the space. He had to swallow that worry every time his feet hit the concrete here as he willfully pushed any thoughts of Fred out of his mind. 
Steve didn’t seem to like that line of questioning and he pinched his lips together which made Eddie waver. Had he pressed too hard already? Maybe he was making Steve regret waiting.
“Not too long,” Steve replied off-handedly as he put the mug down and stood up from the couch.
Enough time for Wayne to make coffee, Eddie thought with annoyance, kicking himself for not coming home right away. He watched as Steve turned properly to face him, the distance between them still feeling like leagues as Eddie stood between the kitchen and the bathroom and Steve stood near the front door.
“Let’s…” Steve started and then jammed his thumb towards the door before starting to move in that direction. He seemed awkward for the first time since Eddie had gotten home and Eddie felt that calm his own nerves slightly. It wasn’t anger so that was at least a small step forward.
“Sure, yeah,” Eddie replied quietly, waiting for Steve to step outside before following him. He caught up to Steve and glanced as they walked passed his car. He had been so distracted coming in he hadn’t even noticed the obviously out-of-place BMW parked by his trailer. They didn’t get into the car though, so Eddie stuffed his hands back in his pockets as they started walking. 
“So–”
“Did you–” Eddie started, only to stumble over his words as Steve started to talk at the same time. “Sorry, you go–”
“No, it’s alright,” Steve insisted, his tone a bit emotionless despite not being harsh.
Eddie pressed his lips together and floundered again before looking at his feet. He choked on his own words for a moment, his mouth hanging open as he tried to conjure the ability to talk.
“You… I was–earlier, I came by,” Eddie fumbled, rolling his hands in circles in front of himself while wiggling his fingers as if that would help organize his thoughts, “when I… were you there?”
His line of questioning didn’t quite make sense and Eddie sniffed to cover up his awkwardness before plowing on.
“It doesn’t matter– it’s, uh, I don’t blame you for slamming the door in my face. It, I mean, I probably would have done worse if I were you. That is, I mean, not–it’s not about me, I don’t mean it that way,” Eddie rambled, caught in something of a loop as he tried to apologize without apologizing and get on the same footing as Steve. He seemed so calm, it wasn’t fair, Eddie felt like an idiot and a jackass and he didn’t know what more he could say. He probably had to start from the beginning, and that felt daunting at best.
“I came by earlier 'cause I wanted to… I needed to, uh–”
“Eddie,” Steve spoke up finally which shut Eddie up instantly, his attention still on his own feet, “I heard you… earlier. I heard what you said before you left.”
Eddie sucked in a breath, not sure if he was feeling relief or overwhelmed as Steve’s words crashed over him. It felt like an invasion of privacy or something. Like there was a mistake and he should be ashamed or angry, but at the same time, he had said all of that because he wanted Steve to hear him. Regardless, Eddie stopped walking and stood with his nose pointed towards the ground, his emotions too big to hold in. He couldn’t move and stop himself from crying at the same time. He needed everything to stop. He needed a break or something from the onslaught–how was he supposed to remain calm when it felt like the rug was constantly being pulled out from under his feet?
Steve didn’t stop walking right away, but after moving a few paces he turned and looked at Eddie, staying quiet for the moment. It didn’t help and Eddie fisted his hands by his side as he felt tears run down his nose. He hoped his hair was long enough and it was dark enough here that Steve couldn’t see him.
“I’m really fucking sorry,” he hissed, trying to hold his emotions in and speak through gritted teeth. “I don’t know what to do, man. I just… tell me what to do to fix it. I don’t know what to do.”
Images of Steve sitting on the other side of his door while Eddie himself moped and lamented about life filtered into Eddie’s mind. How unfair it was to sit there and pour his heart out when Steve hadn’t asked for it; how he had come to his front door and refused to leave, trapping Steve in his own home practically. But the image of Steve sitting in his bone-white house with his back to the door and Eddie mirroring him still felt impossibly heartwrenching. Eddie couldn’t figure out if it was breaking him because it was the kindest thing someone had done for him or because it was the cruelest thing he had done to someone else. And now he was asking Steve to tell him what to do. Asking him while blubbering like a baby as if Steve should be responsible for his emotions now, too.
“I can’t,” Steve answered and Eddie choked as his emotions slammed into him.
As if his body couldn’t take it Eddie squatted down and buried his face in his thighs, trying desperately to keep his sobs silent. He felt desperate. There was no fixing this; it was as if he had done irreversible damage and Steve was just letting him go with one last goodbye.
The sounds of the night felt deafening to Eddie as the murmur of crickets and the distant rumble of cars filled the empty space between them. How overwhelming the peace of the night was. The sounds pressed in on him and made his body feel untethered in the worst of ways. As if he could lay down right here and make this place his grave. Die with regrets and disappear from everyone’s lives so he couldn’t do any more damage.
“I’m just…” Eddie gasped, trying not to heave like a child, “I’m so fucking scared.”
“Eddie…” Steve said sympathetically, and Eddie shook his head to the softness, wishing Steve would just stop.
“You must fucking hate me,” Eddie blubbered, his voice tinged with humour as he tried to make light of the situation–as he tried to muster the last of his bravery to at least go down with some dignity.
“I don’t hate you,” Steve replied, sounding a bit annoyed which felt contradictory, but it made Eddie pause long enough so he could swallow back the constraint in his throat, his ears prickling for more.
The confession was desperate and selfish to mutter in the moment when Steve was probably already exercising so much patience. He wanted to be reassured, he needed to know that if nothing else he could try and make things better. If he was going to live life in this terrifying new space he at least wanted to be able to do it with other people like him. He didn’t want to start from scratch again. He didn’t want to have to figure this all out by himself. He just needed a crumb, something–anything–so he could at least try to enjoy his miserable existence.
“I can’t tell you what to do because I don’t know either,” Steve continued as Eddie sniffled and tried to make himself breathe even. That was something at least. It still felt hopeless, but at least it wasn’t hate. 
“Sorry,” Eddie mumbled, swallowing the phlegm building in his throat as he tried uselessly to cover up his crying.
“I don’t think I forgive you, yet, but…” Steve said as Eddie heard his shoes scraping on the road as he moved closer.
Yet. But. That meant there was more, that meant there was a sliver of a chance he could fix things. He clung to those words as Steve approached, his heart feeling as if it was being strangled in his chest, like some sick sacrifice to the gods.
“I think I’m willing to let you make it up to me,” Steve said quietly as Eddie felt Steve crouch down in front of him. Steve touched the top of his head, the motion almost turning into a pet but stopping short as Steve just held his hand against Eddie’s crown.
Quietly–slowly–Eddie lifted his head to peer at Steve from over his knees. Steve wasn’t smiling brilliantly like the sun, and he almost didn’t resemble himself crouched in the middle of the road with yellow street lights illuminating him. He looked troubled and unsure, but Eddie swore there was care there as well. That was enough. That was okay. He’d make do with that for now–he’d make it up to Steve. 
“Stop saying that,” Steve scolded, a good-natured sound to his voice as he half ruffled and half shoved Eddie’s head before standing up.
Eddie choked a wet laugh, actually feeling himself smile lightly. The weight on his heart felt lighter, even if his bones were still heavy with regret. It felt awkward, but at least right now it felt like there was a shadow of their friendship present.
“You should get out of the middle of the road before a car hits you,” Steve said as Eddie heard him shuffle backward to the shoulder.
Eddie groaned lightly, shame plowing into him for having broken down in front of Steve like that. How fucking embarrassing. You weren’t supposed to cry in front of other guys–but if he was going to be… queer, maybe he had to stop thinking about things like that.
Eddie pulled up the hem of his shirt and covered his face with it, using it as a tissue and a shield all at once.
 
“Don’t look at me, I’m pathetic,” Eddie grouched as he got up and stumbled to the side of the road. He continued to hold the fabric to his face, but let himself peak out of the corner of his shirt, his bangs mostly covering his eyes still.
“I’ve seen worse,” Steve offered with a bit of a huff, “try puking your guts out in a public washroom with a broken nose and your eye swollen shut.”
Eddie huffed, and looked to the side, still not sure how to respond to Steve when he brought up the past like that. He didn’t know all the details of the summer of 1985, but the pieces he had gathered were wild at best and absolutely bat-fucking-insane at worst.
“How’d you see it if your eye was swollen shut?” Eddie asked indignantly, only to flinch hard as Steve smacked his bare stomach.
Eddie grunted from the mild pain and stumbled backward slightly until his feet hit grass. The hit hadn’t hurt badly, and honestly, it had been more of a shock than anything, but it was a friendly ‘bro’ gesture. Eddie wasn’t all that used to that sort of thing–it was so jock–but it was friendly so he didn’t have the mind to complain.
“Shut up, would you? Or I’ll properly give you a five-star,” Steve replied, his tone obviously teasing.
Eddie huffed and wiped the last of his snot and tears onto his shirt before dropping it back down.
“A five-star, really? What are we? Fourteen?” Eddie asked, hunching a bit but falling into step beside Steve again.
“With the company you keep, I’d say that’s accurate.”
“The company I keep?” Eddie scoffed, sounding more offended than he actually was. Eddie hustled a bit to get in front of Steve, walking backward a few paces in front of him so he could point at Steve.
“They were your’s before I was even in the picture,” Eddie scolded, unable to help the hint of a smile breaking onto his face. This was good, this felt so much better than whatever the last 2 weeks had been. This felt almost like it had before all this nonsense. 
“You’re doing a terrible job of proving that you’re sorry,” Steve quipped and Eddie snapped his mouth shut, feeling the lightness fade quickly. He swallowed thickly and Steve must have noticed because he was waving his hand dismissively while keeping pace with Eddie still.
“I’m teasing,” Steve clarified, “too soon.”
Eddie pressed his lips together and turned to start walking beside Steve again, his head hanging down a bit.
“Yeah, but you deserve to get at least one in,” Eddie replied, feeling a smidge better knowing that there wasn’t any weight behind Steve’s comment. He didn’t feel like he could begrudge him, and Steve deserved at least one cheap shot.
They grew quiet after that, but it wasn’t oppressive like it was before and the awkwardness only touched the edges of the moment as they walked back to Hawkins’ Trailer Park. It was a comfortable silence and one that felt vaguely familiar to how things used to be between the two of them after the Upside Down. It wasn’t perfect–God, was it far from perfect–but Eddie could honestly say he felt good occupying that space. Everything had been so messy and even without the clearest path forward they were at least talking. He’d try–he’d try hard to make it up to Steve and prove that his misstep had been just that: A misstep. He still didn’t know what this meant for him and the prospect of facing that felt as if something was looming behind him even as they walked across the empty asphalt. But, he was at least looking at it now. This feeling, this fear, of discovering a more genuine version of himself. Just this hulking beast standing behind him, demanding and formidable, but less intimidating than it had been. He was unsure, but the sentimental notion of “family” felt like it was filtering into the space around them too. It was less ghastly, less perilous, and daunting to look at with someone else beside him. 
“Alright, yeah, see you at Wheeler’s,” Eddie confirmed, offering an awkward smile as Steve nodded and got into his car. 
Eddie bumped his shoulder into Steve’s as they approached the trailer, not looking up at him as he felt the exhaustion of the last 14 days catching up to him.
“Thanks for coming by,” Eddie said quietly, stepping up the trailer stairs before half turning to look at Steve who was stationed by his car.
“Yeah,” Steve answered, both of their uncertainty on how to communicate their emotions obvious. “I’ll see you… at Nancy’s going away party. College party, thing.”
Pt4
It wasn’t the best of goodbyes but as Steve’s car rumbled to life and Eddie finished climbing the steps into the trailer he couldn’t help but smile at how genuine their parting had been. It was awkward, but it also felt kind of perfect: no pressure to perform, no dredging up emotions or guilting one another, it was just them. Just honest and authentic with no hope for anything more than to fix whatever was here between the two of them.
Once a freak, always a freak. It just felt good to not be going at it alone anymore.
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trashmouth-critter · 1 year
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One more tomorrow, to see heaven in your eyes
I’m back in my Preston Garvey era, and as my dad would say “he’s a good man! A lovely man!”
I really don’t see enough love for Preston, like I can live with the radiant quests and long as he tells me that I sustain his every breath and that I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to him…. Anyways….
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hotchsdimples · 8 months
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hii, can i request something?:
reader has had an absent dad when she was younger so it basically has an influence on her ability to trust men and so everytime aaron does something for her out of love, she gets a bit overwhelmed and can’t believe this is what her life has turned out to be like.
i’m cravingggg some hurt/comfort lol
if you don’t want to write that, it’s totally okay! :)
thank you so much for your request!! i hope i did it justice. <3
Maybe I don't quite know what to say
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader
Words: 709
Loving Aaron and being loved by Aaron was the best thing to ever happen to her. It had taken her some time to get used to it at first, and there were still moments when she doubted herself and thoughts like ‘I don’t deserve this’ or ‘It’s too good to be true’ invaded her mind, but those have gotten less and less frequent. 
She had to learn how to trust him in the beginning. The fact that he was her unit chief had helped, but it still hadn’t been easy for her to just open up to him and do so comfortably. Not because she was afraid of his reactions and how he would perceive her, but because this was new territory to her. Growing up she hadn’t really known her father. Until she was 7 years old, she used to see him twice a month, until he had distanced himself and had grown fully absent from her life. Wanting to know nothing about her, not acknowledging her when they ran into each other in the grocery store. So, yeah. Trusting men outside of work, letting them in, she had to learn it first.
Aaron had been nothing but understanding when she had told him. He was always understanding. He was also protective of her, an anger running through him at her father for acting as if she wasn’t his daughter. She had told him multiple times that it was okay, that the sentiment wasn’t one-sided, but deep down he knew she was still hurting. 
They were away on a case in California when she emerged from the bathroom of their hotel room, finding Aaron sitting on the bed, a small box in his hand.
“I got something for you,“ he said, smiling widely at her as he stood up to meet her halfway.
She looked back at him, clearly surprised, and hesitantly reached for the box as he held it out for her. Opening the box, she found a golden necklace with a heart charm. Her eyes went wide, her mouth agape, as she looked up at him.
“Aaron,“ she breathed out.
“Flip it over,“ he gently instructed, keeping his eyes on her at all times.
She did as she was told and the back of the heart revealed to be engraved. In Aaron’s handwriting. ‘I am so proud of you. I love you endlessly.’
She couldn’t stop the tears that formed in her eyes. “Where did you- How- When-,“ she was clearly at a loss for words and he smiled at her softly.
“When Dave and I went to pick up our takeout we passed this store and I knew I wanted to get you this. May I?“ He gestured towards the necklace she hadn’t let go of and she handed it to him before she turned around and pulled her hair to the side.
When he was done, his hands found her shoulders and she turned immediately, wrapping her arms around him. “Thank you so much.“ Her voice was muffled by his chest, but he could still hear the way her voice cracked. In response, he held her even tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“Anything for you, sweetheart. You know that.“
She nodded against him and he could feel the fresh set of tears against his shirt. It wasn’t unusual for her to shed some tears when he did something like this for her. Buying her jewelry, flowers or simply cuddling for hours and telling her over and over again how much he loved her. It was something she hadn’t experienced while growing up, so she appreciated it immensely. He knew it and it had him wanting even more to make sure she knew just how much he loved and appreciated her.
She pulled back from him slightly to cup his face in both of her hands, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you endlessly, too, honey,“ she sniffled.
“Come on, let’s get some sleep,“ Aaron took her hands in his, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then to her knuckles. She let him guide her towards the bed, laying down and wrapping her arms around him, her head resting on his chest as she contently fell asleep.
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On the subject of gotham county line and batman noel and so on and so forth it’s pretty frustrating (from a watsonian pov) that anytime Bruce hallucinates Jason being loving/ caring/helpful/compassionate towards him it’s always as robin and never as his current self
#it's ironic because Jason as robin never got the chance to become as obedient & devoted (malleable) to Bruce as he currently is#which is a result of being abused/manipulated for a more prolonged period of time#“maybe if I try harder and do it right this time he'll finally see the truth”#classic abuse tactic#no matter how well the victim fits the mold set by the abuser they’ll never acknowledge it#rather if they see you trying they’ll push harder and tell you you’re not perfect#the small shreds of affection here and there are important for motivating the victim to keep trying#kelseethe#Jason initiating the hug in rhato 27 after Bruce insinuated that those beatings will be a regular occurence bc he deems it a necessity#continuing to support Bruce even after Ethiopia and sticking around to help get Damian back#eagerly cooperating with Bruce + co in event leviathan then getting surprise pikachu faced/hurt after being betrayed#making a conscious decision to comfort Bruce in gotham war after Bruce fucked him up and left him behind#having undying conern for Bruce's wellbeing while Bruce regularly endangers his life#ex. Bruce's weird habit of committing vehicular assault on Jason whenever they're on the road demonstrated both in tfz and gotham war#point being: Jason was much more psychologically fit to be defiant towards Bruce when he was robin compared to now#he's more of a “good son”™ now than he was as robin Bruce is just too used to thinking whatever he wants and never being satisfied#the only times Jason got mad/upset at Bruce during one issue and continued to stay mad until the next#other than lost days and utrh was batman 410-411 and early in aditf before Bruce helps Jason find Sheila#so much worse has happened since then and all that just magically became water under the bridge off-panel
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whispering-woodlands · 2 months
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Pay no mind what other voices say
They don't care about you, like I do, like I do
Safe from pain and truth and choice and other poison devils
See, they don't give a fuck about you, like I do
Just stay with me, safe and ignorant
Go back to sleep
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belovedcarrion · 10 months
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Miguel is my favorite kind of character, he's an asshole with a tragic back story and he's just so obvious about it
Like he tries to be a stoic bastard but he's just sort of hemorrhaging all of his repressed emotional issues all over the place, like he literally put his trauma into a PowerPoint presentation that he shows to everyone
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pixelatedraindrops · 8 months
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okaynevergivemeaccesstoanyspritearteveragain XD
Yuma after forgetting his rain coat one time.
You know damn well Kanai Ward's rain would utterly wreck him if he didn't have his protective attire on. HE JUST LOOKS SO SMALL AND FRAIL FR
Call 911 or he will die /jk
I had to make a chart for this.
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Bonus edits 🤒
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In The Valley
TW: discussion of self-harm, reckless behaviour, various angsty discussions, Forever appears for a bit in the middle
Cellbit runs through the streets, the undead giving chase. Unthinking as they are it does not matter if he twists and turns, still they chase. Clawed nails catch on his arm, teeth shortly following; he reaches out with his mind, grasping the small spark of life in the zombie and crushing it between metaphorical teeth. It is not as satisfying as an actual bite, but he snarls as he twists the aether around it nonetheless.
The zombie collapses. Cellbit feels his energy drain further, and keeps on running.
Somewhere, something, if he can just find... He doesn't know, he has no idea, just the certainty that if he stops he dies.
If he dies, he never learns if his best friend survived. He never finds out if he was good enough.
That is enough to spark him into further action; he pulls a long dead radio from his pocket, desperately jamming the batteries in and out until it sparks to life. He has no idea how far they are, no idea what they are doing, or even if the message will send. He knew he should have changed the batteries months ago, but things happened, and stuff occurred, and now...
He preset the radio to their old unit's wavelength, and prerecorded it with a message. He does not know what frequency Forever now uses, but it is all that he has.
Cellbit has no idea if any of them are even alive, if the aliens have caught them or worse has occured. The drops he leave... They will never be found, not before he is torn limb from limb and dies. He has no way better to contact Forever, no idea if Felps lives, and Tazercraft vanished from the face of the earth.
Screaming in frustration he jams the batteries in again.
The screams draw more zombies, but the radio sparks to life.
It lights up just long enough for Cellbit to the button and a light to go on, but blinking a few times before dying again.
Cellbit keeps running.
He tries again.
Swearing and cursing and desperate he keeps trying to make the radio work, far beyond his skillset but all that he has. In his distraction, however, he does not see the dead end.
Not until the wall is in his face, and the zombies are at his back.
He takes one breath, and a second.
This is it, then.
Ten years undercover, twelve of trying to do good, only for it to end like this. The cannibal, alone and friendless at the last, torn limb from limb and feasted upon by that which was once human.
It's fine, though, was Cellbit ever really a person? It was nice pretending, while it lasted, those few years of tricking himself into thinking he was capable of change, capable of loving and being loved.
He should have known that goodness has no place for people like him.
Cellbit reaches out again, pushing himself to exhaustion and beyond. He might be about to die, and his attempts to call help have been thwarted by broken technology, but he refuses to merely give in.
A Child of the War, Cellbit does not know the meaning of giving in.
He thinks of his mentor from his earliest memories, he thinks of Pac and Mike and Forever and Guapito, and he thinks most of all of Felps. He draws them to mind, pulls strength into his soul, bolsters himself as best he can. No idea if they live, if they died, if they turned traitor or stayed true. Still he thinks on them as he remembers them, and reinforces his soul with love.
No weapons, no armour, nowhere to run and nowhere to escape, nothing but his clothes, his mind, his soul, a dead end, and three hordes of zombies closing in.
Cellbit feeds his soul with the life force of zombies and with love, pouring his hopes and dreams and everything he could have been into it. Red spirals out, leaking into the floor, forming a cloud of haze and dust. Zombies drop dead as they touch it, and yet still they come; it surrounds Cellbit in a small arc, keeping the undead away but draining him second by second by second.
It is too late.
Exhausted, desperate, weak - no matter what he tries to drag up from the depths of his tortured soul, Cellbit cannot hold it forever.
Still he tries, as long as he can, trapped and alone but refusing to let them win.
What a death, to be eaten alive.
At least if he burns his soul out first, he will not be conscious to feel it.
He holds until his vision blurs, zombies scrambling over one another's corpses to reach him.
He holds until his vision blackens, everything closing in.
He holds until his body crumbles, fallen and unaware in the dust and the grime.
---
Cellbit wakes up neither alone nor with a zombie, but rather with someone warm pressed into his side. Hair brushes against his cheek where they have pressed their face into his neck, and arms are wrapped around his chest.
His body wants to stay sleeping, his soul screaming with exhaustion, but...
Bed beneath him, pain, warmth, a human being at his side.
He needs to be awake, to assess, to find out what is happening here.
Dragging himself awake is like trawling through old treacle; not just though sludge, but with sugar in there crystals too. His eyes are heavy and his body is wrong, but he /needs/ to know.
The hair on his cheek is dark, and tightly curled. He... knows it.
"... Felps?" he asks.
Somewhere above he hears a muttered 'of fucking course', but he zones it out. Whomever it is is unimportant as Felps slowly untangles himself, and sits up.
He does not go far, just enough that they can make eye contact. Felps smiles with water eyes, and calls him "Cellbinho."
It feels like a dream. It has to be a dream, or a dying hallucination; the Felps before him looks not a day older than last they met, the only mark of ten years being exhaustion beneath his eyes, and that his hair has grown back.
Or maybe this is death, and Cellbit dragged Felps to hell with him.
Cellbit does not say anything else, he dares not. He barely dares to breathe at the sight before him, something worthy and that he condemned all the same.
But Felps does move. His fingers are thinner - frailer - than Cellbit remembers, but they grab at his cheeks, manipulating his face as Felps checks on him just like every other time he has been hurt.
"Are you okay?" Cellbit asks him, because of everything... Of everything in the world, what matters most is if Felps is okay. If... This Felps cannot be real, but maybe he can answer it anyway. "Did they find you? Did- Did you escape? Please, you're not dead - you can't be dead, I promised-"
He cuts himself off before a sob can escape him.
Felps' eyebrows twitch ever so slightly, and he glances to the side. It only lasts a fraction of a second, though, before he picks up one of Cellbit's hands, and places it to his cheek.
"I'm here," is what Felps answers, face shifting to a smile. "How would I be here if they hadn't?"
The cheek is cooler than it should be. Not corpse-cold - more like he had just fetched something from a walk-in freezer - but cold.
It does a little to discredit the dead idea, but not much.
"See, Cellbo?" a different voice cuts in, one also familiar; Forever, looking every bit the extra ten years older, perhaps even more, drops himself next to Felps on the bed. "I can be trusted with some things!"
Cellbit does not quite have time to process any thoughts before Forever is insisting on helping him sit up, pushing pillows around as support. It probably is not needed, not entirely, but his exhausted muscles appreciate the break.
And he looks up from Forever to see Pac and Mike, sat watching him. Pac notices and grins at him, but the tears drip heavily down his cheeks, carving paths in the dust on his face.
"Why didn't you call us sooner?" Forever asks, face ever shifting between intensities. "We would have come."
"Would you?" slips out. He doesn't mean to say it - he remembers just enough to know he is not supposed to question their loyalty no matter how strange it may appear - but he did think it.
He damned himself. Why would they - why did they - come for him?
Cellbit manages not to ask that one.
In response Forever makes a wounded sound, flinching a little at the question. Cellbit's heart curls up, to know that some of the first words he has said to his family in ten years caused that response.
It's Pac who answers "yes", with Mike humming in agreement. The two shift in unison. Mike says "bro, I thought this was a trap and I still came for you" and Pac continues "nothing could have stopped us from trying" their words running into a single sentence.
Nothing? Cellbit doubts that. He wonders why they even came, with ten years to break the dependency and tooth-shaped scars in Pac's flesh.
But he does not have time to think more, because Felps tilts his head with a slightly awkward smile. "Nobody would let me," he says. "But, I would have found a way, even if they refused to help."
What could Felps have done, if he was still frozen? If Cellbit... If nobody had answered Cellbit's desperate call to save his friend, too deep in the Federation to do anything with the information he had found?
Would there have been consequences?
And Cellbit thinks of thin fingers and cold cheeks, of an unaged face and the word 'stasis' slipping between the redactions on Felps' file. He repeats to himself Felps' words, about not being allowed to go. Now that he thinks about it, the man never answered if he was okay, did he?
... He was too slow, wasn't he?
Cellbit was too slow, and Felps has suffered for it.
Anger burns up in Cellbit's throat, fury reborn at the realisation. He has never not been angry with the Federation, but there is a difference between the simmering and the overflowing. He needs to destroy them, to rip them apart - every last one - to paint their white halls in their blood and feast upon their entrails.
He needs to tear himself apart, to punish himself, to create even tougher scar tissue so he can push past and never fail again. Because he has, and he did, and only in fire can a weapon be reforged, and only on a grindstone can a dulled blade be sharpened.
But the Federation are not here, and there are four people here who will not let him hurt himself; all he can do is reach out, and pull Felps tightly against his chest.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."
He thinks Felps must hear, or at least feel the quiet tears in his hair, because Felps' arms do not just loop around Cellbit, but squeeze him tightly in reply.
If anyone else hears, Cellbit is unsure. They don't react, though, or at least not that he sees; the three let them have a few moments, letting Cellbit cry into Felps' hair, and Felps cry into Cellbit's chest.
Eventually, however, Forever interrupts them. He does it by hugging them both, but also tapping Cellbit's shoulder as he does.
"I've got to go," he says. "You'll be okay? Our idiots will look after you."
It takes Cellbit longer to remember that Forever runs a rebellion and so of course is busy than it does for his heart to curl. Still, he clings onto Felps - the one he really needs - and nods.
"I'll be in my office if you need me," Forever replies. "The others are waiting in the crew quarters, if you want to end a tour there?"
He hesitates, eyes lingering on Cellbit momentarily, before he disappears on hurried feet, a radio already in hand.
There is a void left on the bed, one quickly filled by Pac and Mike scrambling over. The two are a chaos of limbs, but eventually resolve into Mike sat on the opposite side of the bed to Felps, and Pac perched over his legs.
"Do you hurt?" Mike asks.
That it is Mike of all people who asks...
Cellbit considers the question. He aches, yes, but not so much hurt - even where he was bitten, some sort of numbing cream seems to have been applied.
"I'm fine," he therefore answers.
"Good. I can do this then."
A second later there is a sting across his face, and an offended call of "Mike!" from Pac. Cellbit puts a hand to his cheek, right where Mike had just slapped him. He... probably deserved that, dragging them out all the way to Canada just because he was too incompetent to properly escape once his cover was blown.
Felps, having shifted in Cellbit's hold to watch, is laughing. Cellbit had forgotten just how dear his laugh was to him.
Seconds later, Mike wraps Cellbit in a hug, Felps scooped in too.
"You scared me, asshole. Ten years. Ten fucking /years/, Cellbo; we thought you were /dead/."
And... /Oh/.
Mike cares.
Cellbit... Cellbit deserved the slap, he knows that.
He doesn't deserve Mike's worry, though, not after he was the cause, not after everything he has done. He has never been worthy of the worry, but here it is.
"You could have asked us," Pac says, only doubling the pain in Cellbit's heart as he is looked at like he is worth something. "You had our details. We would have come. We always come, you idiot."
"I couldn't risk my cover," he replies. "I couldn't risk it. I had to-"
"Before, years ago," it's Mike, this time, and then Pac who continues. "When everything burnt" and together they say "You knew where we were, how to contact us; we would have come with you."
"You didn't have to go alone, you idiot," Pac finishes, at exactly the same time that Mike says "you could have at least said you survived, bro."
Cellbit thinks of Cucurucho's claws, and knows he would do /anything/ to keep his family far, far from them. Asking was not an option, not with how dangerous it was - he would never have risked them, not just to save himself a little heartache. They had each other; what did they need him for? And, what was saving Felps, what was uncovering the information to damn the Federation with, if the cost was more of his family?
The others, sure, but his family?
Felps is worth the world, but Pac and Mike and Forever are part of /Cellbit/'s world.
Mike grabs Pac's arm, pulling him into the hug. The patches of medical gown beneath their eyes are all, suspiciously, wet.
"We missed you," Felps says. "I missed you."
"You're safe now," says Pac. "We won't let them hurt you."
That's his line. That should be his line; they are criminals, yes, but he is the murderer, the bloodstained, the cannibal and the demon. It should be him who throws himself between them and the blade - something he has not been here to do.
Because while Felps looks like a slightly frailer man who disappeared ten years ago, the other three... all of their faces carry new scars. And all four of them are worn in a way Cellbit is sure is reflected on his face, but that he just wanted to save them from.
The Federation will burn, for daring to touch them - for the burn scars all across Pac's face, and the scratches littering Mike's skin. Forever's scars were more faded, but there certainly were a few.
For a while he drinks the three of them in, absorbs the feeling of knowing His People are safe again. He never wants to let go, except that he knows that he must. So many people, so much touch... Eventually his skin itches, and he has to push them away.
He tries to ignore the expressions they give him, and cannot ignore the tears - he wipes each of their cheeks in turn, and their hands wipe away his tears too.
"... A tour was mentioned?" he offers them, the best he can give that isn't begging them to understand, to never leave him.
The trio all perk up.
"Yeah about that," Mike's grin is a little dangerous. "Why /does/ Roier call you Gatinho?"
Pac elbows Mike, but there's also something terrifying in his eyes, "and you know Bad? BadBoyHalo? What a small world! There's even a lady claiming to be your sister! Why didn't you tell us?"
"Wait, I have a sister?!"
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god i wish the escape room movies had more of an audience becuase i NEED to talk about danny kahn like like LIKE
spoilers below obviously
this kid is the youngest player (I don't think it's specified but he's at oldest early 20's) and he lost his ENTIRE FAMILY to carbon monoxide poisoning either very recently or REALLY YOUNG (I can't remember if we know) and is also he is so fucking good at escape rooms like really good at escape rooms
and then he has the only death that's pretty much exclusively unavoidable regardless of how clever you are
like you can make the argument it wouldn't have happened if ben hadn't been a dick but also there were clearly explosives in the ice and a fast current and regardless it's clear minos wanted to kill him; it wasn't about luck it wasn't about being smarter it wasn't about making mistakes he just dies because they explode the ice he's standing under
and it almost makes you wonder if minos had underestimated him? like they hadn't realized quite how good he'd be, and wanted it to come down to luck more than it came down to skill or maybe they HADN'T underestimated him but his death had just been a preplanned and especially cruel way of setting the stakes for the other players
like idk where im going with this and it's not expanded upon at all in the movie because he dies first and obviously from like an Art perspective he's clearly just the peppy, vaguely likable scapegoat character who dies first so the audience invested in the stakes but also I WANT TO TALK ABOUT HIM I WANT FANFIC ABOUT HIM I WANT TO THINK ABOUT DANNY KAHN FROM THE ESCAPE ROOM MOVIES-
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asukiess · 7 months
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I also think the difference between Ladrien and Ladywalker is that like.... the repression goes from implicit to explicit (but still unspoken). Adrien is repressed, yes, but he stops with the repression and he still goes by the same name, he still wears the same face. Catwalker stops and he no longer is. He must cling to that repression for the sake of the relationship.
There's something about the stunted state of growth for Ladybug and Catwalker - Catwalker can't change for the better because if he does, he no longer exists. And maybe that traps Ladybug a little bit, too. Maybe she can't be pushed in the right direction by a partner who can't step a toe out of line in fear of changing the status quo. Maybe they'd both be so afraid of the way they can't seem to break the pattern that they both realize something has to give.
anon you have my whole heart. you GET it.
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menelaiad · 1 year
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LOOK. whatever you think of menelaus or agamemnon or whatever. this lil moment here (from icke's oresteia) is AGONY. because they did come from so much shit. from murder and scheming and freakin' cANNIBALISM. yet they MADE IT. before paris and the dominos that fell afterwards, they would have believed that they were different, that they were safe. they had wives that loved them and kids that loved them too (argue with the wall about it). they had MADE IT. DESPITE EVERYTHING. and most importantly they had EACH OTHER. they weren't atreus and thyestes. things were so good for them. and they did good!! we know that myceneans LOVED aga as their king. and menelaus got a kingdom he NEVER expected to have.
to be descended from TANTALUS you are already losing. to then have ATREUS as a father and THYESTES as an uncle? it would have been so easy for greeks to write them off. for them to write themselves off. BUT THAT DIDNT HAPPEN. and they did SO WELL. it was all going SO WELL.
you can't change a narrative. you can't alter fate. and the reason tragedies are so is because it wasn't ALWAYS that way. but ... things could have been so different for them. i TRULY believe that.
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bravest · 27 days
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thinking about the way that lingering after her leap of faith , kneeling with her hand outstretched for mono , was more of a reflexive impulse than a conscious choice . dimly six had recognised that she needed to catch her friend and help him , the way she had countless times before this . he'd jumped , and her hand had curled tightly around his . starved fingers snug and secure around his .
her heart was pounding so hard , it seemed to be physically hurting her chest . there was a dull ache burning there anyway - one that was burning more powerfully with every passing second . six's breaths were leaving her in short , sharp pants as she kneeled at the edge of this tremendous drop , gazing at the ground , unable to meet mono's gaze for a tremulous minute .
her music box . her recollection is hazy , the memories are not entirely clear . but she remembers the way mono brought down the hammer on it so brutally . the way it's comforting tune warbled brokenly , and finally stopped short altogether as the metal buckled under his weapon's impact .
every strike against it had wracked her with agony . unbeknownst to her , it had broken a beautiful spell ... a gentle trance that had finally pulled her out of this wretched world and allowed her to know comfort again , however false it might have been .
it could have been so perfect . he could have stayed with her . she wanted him to hear the gentle chimes too . there's another memory of moving closer to him when he arrived , joy surging through her at the familiar call of his voice . a recollection of showing him her treasured silver trinket , trusting him . they could have been safe there . they could have been happy . why did he ruin it ?
how could he smash it to pieces even as she had screamed for him to stop it !
her grasp had inadvertently loosened and her expression had contorted with hatred as she stewed on all that had unfolded . the little cry that mono let out shook her from the miserable flashback , and she musters the will to meet his eye at long last .
he has the audacity to look hopeful , beneath his anxiety . then - to look progressively confused . like he doesn't know what he did to her . blood boiling , eyes frenzied , a lump in her throat rapidly forming , she'd let her gaze bore into him .
his voice sounds faraway as he scrapes out a shaky plea . his fingernails are cutting stark red crescents into her hand as he desperately clutches her . it hurts . he hurts .
he's always been the one that hurts . there's no more bag to hide behind , and ... he looks just like ... !
revulsion . hate . terror . betrayal . heartbreak . the movement had to be swift and decisive - a girl hell bent on surviving this , on putting as much distance between herself and this boy as possible . she wrenched her hand free from his grip , shook him off . let him plummet .
then she rose to her feet , ignoring his deafening scream .
six dusted herself off , took a shaky breath as she turned on her heel . and she left him to his fate . didn't so much as glance back . hot , angry , miserable tears pricked at her eyes . she blinked them away .
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nicoscheer · 6 months
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MILES ?!! Are you okay darling 😭😭😭🫠
Like those two songs and then his caption like… like 😭😭like sir your commitment issues are showing please trust in yourself and your love
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spookyboywhump · 8 months
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I think that I could write a whumpee waking up from a nightmare about their suffering only to be comforted by a friend, a family member, or a partner, 10,000 times and I would still constantly want to write it again. Even if I’m not writing it I am probably thinking about it.
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