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imaginethebeautifulworld · 3 months

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So I was reading Phantom of the Opera and some of Erik's descriptions made me think so much of Gil! I remembered how amazing your Hades and Persephone fic was, and I was hoping you could do something with the Phantom too? Thanks so much!!!!

Hello, Anon! I absolutely adored Erik in the book, and now that I read your ask, I can easily see the similarities, too~ I grew up on a weird blend of the book, musical, and both the 2004 and Lon Chaney films; I tried to honor that blend in this a bit, but a majority was pulled from memories of the book. I hope you enjoy, and thank you for your patience~

The theatre was filled to bursting, the audience awed, riveted, mesmerized, your voice weaving an enchantment over hundreds of unsuspecting admirers.

He was proud of you.

Your voice reached him even in the highest and most of isolated rafters, a platform forgotten- abandoned- by the stagehands stationed several stories below. Your voice was full, carrying all of the strength and conviction and passion as the character you were playing.

Gone was the timid spirit he had stumbled upon all those years ago, broken and shattered from loss, left with only the protections of a then-aloof guardian and a firm, dispassionate teacher.

He was drawn to you from that first day, a twist of compassion, of understanding; in spite of your upbringing and (even then) impressive talent, you were still an outsider, your peers and the other students keeping their distance, leery of your background, and some envious even then.

Yes, the companionship and camaraderie would come in time, but in those first few months, he saw the same loneliness and sadness in you he'd once carried so heavily himself, and his heart ached to comfort you.

The first time he spoke to you was purely accidental, a slip of a whisper he prayed you would dismiss as a ghost, or mere imagination. He had grown too comfortable in answering you when you were alone, his voice always near silent as you spoke to your mother, your father, and sometimes the angels themselves.

It was the latter with which you had caught him, crying out with a broken heart after discovering another student had sabotaged your satin slippers, intent on seeing your failure, your embarrassment, and (as likely was the case with that particular little shrew) your dismissal from the school.

But you persevered, successfully completed your performance, never once showing your distress until you were away from the others. It was only then, hidden away in a forgotten practice room that you showed your anger, your sadness, your hopelessness. The mask had fallen, and he was once again struck by the beauty of the fractured soul he admired so deeply.

"Please," you whispered, and it broke his heart to hear it, "I feel so alone."

It ached, being unable to comfort you, seeing your progress and healing of the past few months tested so needlessly. He ached for you; he was angry for you.

"You are not alone."

It was a fleeting, foolish slip, his temper and his longing both getting the better of him. Your sudden silence choked his own breath, his entire body freezing in terror.

For a moment, for an eternity, there was naught but silence.

He didn't dare move, fearful of how even the slightest shift of fabric could give him away, could startle you, could-

"I was half-afraid I had gone mad, speaking with shadows and expecting them to finally reply."

You were... teasing him, only a little, though at the time he was still petrified that you would demand he reveal himself. You had moved closer to the false panel, studying it closely, seeking out any faults that might give away its secrets. For a moment, your eyes were perfectly level with his own, and he feared you could hear his heart racing in his chest.

But soon enough you had drawn away, crestfallen. "Perhaps I have gone mad," you murmured, sighing in defeat. "Perhaps the rumors are true, and you are nothing but a ghost."

Memories of his time spent serving in the court of a distant empire flickered to memory, a rueful sound resembling laughter slipped past his defenses. "Of the many things they may wish and claim me to be, dead is not yet among them."

Your focus once more returned to the panel, and he instinctively took a step back. "Please-" he began, quickly cutting himself off.

Where others would have pressed forward, you paused, then took several steps away from the wall, granting him his distance, a warm sense of appreciation, and another he couldn't name at the time, sparkling to the surface at the warm breath of relieved laughter you released soon after. "You- You're really there."

That moment, one he could still so clearly remember as the peripeteia, the decided, unexpected change to a familiar script, one which would set the trajectory of both of your lives for the next ten years. It would lead to many late nights spent in practice, in conversation, in debates about the literary characters you loved so dearly. "I am always here."

Your aria had drawn to a close, the spell broken by the deafening roar of the audience's applause, and Gilbert was pulled from his memories, unable to conceal his smile.

Brava, Schatz. Bravissima.

He stood to his full height and began to make his way towards the nearby ladder.

For your role, another scene yet remained- a joyful reunion between your character and the valiant hero following the defeat of the jealous villain, a happy end to a romance so riddled with tragedy.

Gilbert needn't see the ending; it was a tale as old as time.

His footsteps were silent and certain, following a path he could traverse in his sleep; he had already paced it many times in his dreams.

Of all the false doors he had constructed in his opera house, there was one he had yet to pass through, one which now loomed before him. The room beyond was bathed in the ethereal golden glow of candlelight, a world outside of the darkness, fueling even more of the torment already plaguing his mind.

He was haunted by his doubts, by his need to... His need to properly introduce himself.

You had risen so high, could fly even higher, could rise above anything the fools in this theatre could ever hope to imagine. With your voice, your grace, your elegance, and your perspicacity, he had no doubts you could soar to a realm where only angels once dare tread. Perhaps it was wrong to want to burden you, to-

Movement on the other side of the glass brought his thoughts once more to a standstill. You were laughing, carefree, glowing with happiness and a brilliant light which followed everyone through the corridors after a triumphant performance. His heart fluttered to see you so beautifully framed, a living portrait he yearned to touch.

He frowned at the thought.

These feelings...

He had cared for you when you first arrived, a deep friendship slowly growing, even as he never allowed you to glance upon him. Slowly, then almost in an erupting whirlwind, those feelings had adapted, deepened, solidified. He was left hoping, wishing...

You were an Angel, in the most benevolent, compassionate of ways, but even an Angel would surely shun a Devil's Child.

For that was what his eyes and his appearance had always been: that of a devil. And surely-

Another figure was entering the room, and you were quick to abandon the comfort of your velvet settee, rushing to embrace-

No.

You were laughing, falling into conversation with an ease that only came-

You were familiar with this... this boy.

Perhaps even intimate, his traitorous thoughts interfered, the herald to the invasive darkness which followed.

It was a cold, bitter thing, rising from the depths, twisting and corrupting his every breath.

He had been careless, allowing you your freedom, allowing you to slip away to the gilded sanctuary of your guardian's maison de ville.

This boy dared to presume he could even look upon you, let alone embrace you, speak with you so candidly, even addressing you by your given name-

Gilbert felt his rage, his envy, grow stronger, even as that bedamned Raoul finally departed for the evening, leaving your bright smile in his wake.

You often called Gilbert your "Angel of Music," a bringer of light to your once dreary and dark days. You used it affectionately, a term of endearment for one you saw as a companion, a compatriot in curiosity.

But much like his namesake, Gilbert was Fallen, cursed, a creature of shadows and Night.

It took so little to pull him back into the Darkness, and now, with the sting of envy plaguing his every thought, Avarice and Doubt whispering in his ear, his ambitions had changed.

You were his.

He would ensure no one else could dare claim you, would have the slightest chance at your heart.

With skill honed from years of practice, Gilbert silently slid open the trap door, his voice carrying over to you in a tone he himself barely recognized. "Insolent boy. The impertinence of him, sharing in our triumph."

You startled at his voice, turning to him instinctively, your eyes widening in disbelief, before you graced him with your brightest smile yet.

Your joy glittered with more radiance than any star in the heavens, but its glimmer eclipsed your awareness, obscuring the darkness in the figure stealing ever closer.

"Hello, Engel."

Thanks for reading!

Special shout-out to @the-scribe-and-her-scribbles for unwittingly inspiring me today to finally sit down and write. She's an amazing writer, and if you haven't checked it out already, I highly recommend her ongoing series It Will Come Back.

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lilyoffandoms · 3 months

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Trystan x Gabriel

Anon, I don’t know if you will see this but I finished my art for myself. Thank you for your loveliest of beautiful words! They mean the absolute world to me 🧡

My Art ish Thing: @storyofmychoices @aallotarenunelma

#playchoices #choices cop #trystan thorne #trystan thorne x mc #my art ish thing #i polish nothing #cuz i’m stupid like that #it’s the view from trystan’s penthouse if that ain’t obvious #anyways this one gabe me great joy every time i worked on it #thank you from every fiber of my being anon!!!#i’d still love to draw for you :D #trystan x gabriel

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balkanradfem · 18 days

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i traveled to a forest in Illinois for the total solar eclipse and a few hours before it happened i saw two snakes having sex. i want to tell everyone i know how awesome it was that snake babies were being created under the solar eclipse and i witnessed it but i am afraid people will react with "ew snakes are icky you're a freak for telling me about snake sex". but i have a feeling you and your followers will understand.

SOLAR ECLIPSE SNAKE BABIES

I wish we could name them cool celestial names they deserve it ;-;!

#i bet snakes knew exactly what they were doing and about the eclipse and everything #it was a romantic evening for them #they had a great time looking at the sky together and they decided it was the right time #i love them so much anon thank you for this #so many wonderful things can happen!

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etoilesombre · 8 months

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hi! this is maybe very out of the blue, but - i'm reading 'our feast is but beginning' on ao3, and in a comment on part one you write something about the urca gold being a cursed symbol and that it makes zero economical sense. idk really what i am asking but maybe - do you have posts on hand that deal with that? or would you write down some of your thoughts on that? it sounds really interesting! thanks (:

OOOH I'm so excited to talk about this -- it is actually going to come up more in the final chapter of that series, and it comes up as a major plot point in longfic, because I think its a really great example of how in some ways Black Sails is Just a Story. Which is also to say: none of what I'm saying here is a criticism of the show. The Urca Gold is Pirate Treasure writ large, it serves its function in the narrative, we don't actually need to think about the real world implications of stealing it.

But IF, for instance, you were a fanfic writer and kind of a history and econ nerd, and inclined to 'well actually' stuff, then you might see a couple problems with the gold as a solution for a free and independent Nassau. I think of them basically as problems of scale and form.

Let's talk about scale first. Basically, if you are going to steal and not die, you have to make a few calculations.

If you can steal something big, run away and live anonymously ever after, good for you! No problems. (This was Silver's initial plan. He was smart.)

If, however, you are going to steal openly, and maintain some sort of defended home base (see: bandits, organized crime, pirates) you have to ensure it is not worthwhile for people to come get their stuff back. This is why, as a pirate, it behooves you to have a reputation for extreme violence, and also a remote hideout. Merchant ships have insurance, the right people quietly profit from the fencing of pirated goods; nobody actually wants to die, so piracy is cost of doing business, and the world carries on.

The Urca gold is in a completely different class of stealing. This isn't holding up a truck; it isn't robbing the bank. It's robbing the Federal Reserve. Five million Spanish dollars, in today's money (yes, there are issues thinking of it this way, but the point holds) equals somewhere around 250-300 million US dollars.* There is simply no way that it is not worth Spain's (or England's) time and resources to go get it back. The cache they were fighting over at the end was one share and it was enough to cause all that trouble. The full amount would be worth sending a good chunk of your navy for, and the fact that this did not happen immediately requires some suspension of disbelief. Anyway.

Flint's theory seems to be that it's enough money to allow the pirates to defend Nassau against that threat, and basically establish themselves as a rich colony the empires won't fuck with. This is treated by the show like a reasonably serious proposition. So why does it fall apart? You can buy anything with that kind of money, can't you?

Now we get to the problem of form. Gold is only useful if you can exchange it for stuff you need. This is a problem for the pirates on two different fronts, defense specifically and trade in general.

In terms of defense, the pirates would need, very quickly, enough ships and guns to fight at least one imperial navy. But only the major powers were capable of manufacturing those ships and guns. Even if the pirates bought up all they could in terms of well-armed merchant ships/found a corrupt governor or two to buy guns and powder from, it would always be a losing battle because no matter how much money you throw at them, the powers that make warships are absolutely not selling you any. Why would they, when they can use them to come take the gold instead?

So, if the pirates aren't going to live long once they have this gold, can they at least spend their last months being filthy rich and enjoying themselves?

Not really.

We see Jack's crew members getting huge shares, everyone else on the island taking payment to help with defense when the time comes, as well as Jack paying laborers exorbitant amounts. So there's plenty to go around right?

This is how inflation happens. If we all suddenly have twice as much gold, but there is no more actual physical stuff, almost instantly the stuff will cost twice as much. This problem at least theoretically could be corrected by increasing trade. [Also, realistically, people would leave. But let's say they're staying for belief in the pirate republic reasons.] Because in the wider economy of trade in the Atlantic money is still valued normally, you can just import what you need.

And, maybe. This is more plausible than the rest.

But that sort of correction takes time, and given the whole 'war with civilization' situation, there can't be legitimate and sanctioned trade. It's pretty hard to get enough illegitimate goods in for an economy to prosper --- especially because if you're relying on black market trade during wartime, notoriously there ends up being price gouging and then you're back to square one with inflation.

In conclusion: the show does not get bogged down by this, as it shouldn't. It's fine. But yeah, the gold is fake and makes no sense, and Flint and Jack especially are borderline delusional about what it can achieve for them.

*This is actually not as impressive as I wanted it to be, once I started looking up reference points, eg, how much outstanding student debt is there? how much money does besos have? how much is defense spending? Did y'all know we should fight capitalism and eat the rich?

#they all would have been better off if it had been a tenth as much money #this is also making me think about the scale of revolution issues #killing some magistrates is fine and useful #sacking boston is for real a bad plan #black sails #anon ask #i'm having a great time thank you for the ask I love these #ps new chapter will be out soon!#maybe a week or two

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ssreeder · 5 months

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A while ago you said you wanted to your update pattern, so here it is lmao.

03/26/22

04/09/22

04/29/22

05/22/22

06/11/22

07/16/22

07/31/22

08/20/22

09/10/22

09/29/22

11/09/22

11/26/22

12/10/22

12/30/22

01/06/23

01/27/23

02/10/23

03/05/23

04/02/23

05/05/23

05/20/23

06/10/23

07/08/23

09/15/23

11/08/23

It starts when I started reading so it’s crazy to look back on how long I’ve been following this fanfiction! I’ve never been this dedicated before lol. Keep up the awesome work!

*casually mentions curiosity about update schedule*

*gets ask with update schedule*

#haha I love you anon this is funny #I don’t remember asking for this but it’s actually really cool to see #idk why I feel like when I write in the tags people read them #don’t read them***#I’m sure I would have asked for this in the tag casually #but seeing it in front of me like this it’s crazy to see how frequently I would update #my next question would be each of these updates how many word count were they??#haha I mean I know the newest ones #were BIG word count #idk I just remember the first chapter of liab was 7k #I was like “wow this is a great chapter length!#I was so stupid haha #anywayyyyy thanks for this anon #liab #ria #itf #ask

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feyhunter78 · 1 year

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What about 6 or 20 (author’s choice) and young Elrond? Thank you ❤️

I went ahead and did #20, and I think it came out pretty well!!! (Also, this def has some Bridgerton inspo, and you'll see it in the dialogue) Thank you for your patience! <3 I was supposed to get lasik yesterday then last minutes the Dr came out and was like "actually nvm we have to do a different procedure, we need to reschedule." So it's been a weird day or so for me XD

The Object of All His Desires

This is prompt #20 from the list, which mean you can no longer request #20 for Elrond!

Elrond prided himself on his silver tongue. How he could spin an ordinary tale into an epic for the ages, or how he could turn a simple idea into a speech fit for a king. But when it came to you, he often found himself tripping over his words. His tongue suddenly swelling and becoming too heavy to move properly when faced with your radiance.

A perfect example would be now, as you stand before him tears in your eyes, clad only in a nightdress and robe as you stand outside his door, chest heaving, lips trembling asking him why was he ignoring you? Why was he acting so cold and callous towards you?

“Elrond please, you must tell me now. If I have done something to upset you, or I have offended you, torment me no longer and bid me to leave your sight never to cross your path again.” Your voice shook, eyes brimming with tears as you clutched at your robe for stability.

“No, you have not offended me, I bear no ill will towards you y/n, I promise you.” He said hurriedly, ushering you inside his chambers.

“But if I have not, then why have you been avoiding me? I have searched my mind and cannot find a reason.” You continued, voice filled with sorrow, as you wrapped your robe further around yourself, not meeting his eyes.

Elrond’s mind was a mess. He had been avoiding you because he could no longer contain his affections. Every moment he spent in your presence, he had to fight back the urge to blurt out his feelings in the most undignified way. But to see you so distraught, so uncertain, tore at his heart and his resolve.

“I have been battling within myself for some time, and I wished to spare you of my turmoil.” He said gently, hand twitching with the urge to reach out and comfort you. But he could not, if he did, he would find himself unable to let you go.

“We are friends, you can always come to me with your difficulties, you know this.” You said, lifting your gaze to his.

Elrond hung his head as he saw your tears, glistening like diamonds as they fell. “Of course, I do, but this particular matter is one I must solve myself.”

You took a step forward and took one of his hands in yours. “No matter is too dark or difficult that the light of friendship cannot help resolve it.”

Your voice was so gentle, so earnest, that his fingers curled around your hand, and he fell to his knees, head still hung low. “Y/N, I do not deserve this kindness, if you knew the depths of my desire, the dreams I have had you would scorn me.”

Your voice grew in strength before softening once more as you caressed his jaw. “Never, I would never scorn you. Elrond, you have a piece of my heart that no one else shall ever have, and that is not easily dissuade.”

Elrond looked up at you, oakwood eyes filled with a mix of admiration and anxiety. “I’ve never wanted anyone or anything the way I want you. It’s terrifying. And so, so beautiful.” He said, voice reverent and trembling, he pressed your hand to his lips, the warmth lingering.

“I do not know what to say.” You said breathlessly, heart pounding in your chest.

“You need not say anything, I could no longer remain quiet, my affections for you have grown too large in my heart. Y/N I merely needed you to know how much I love you.”

You sunk to your knees and cupped Elrond’s face. “I do not know what to say except that I have loved you for as long as I can remember, and I will never cease to love you.” You pressed your lips to his, pouring every ounce of affection and feeling you had into the kiss, hoping he would understand the longing you’ve carried for so long.

When you broke apart, foreheads resting against each other, he took your hands and kissed them both. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He whispered, and you whispered it right back before connecting your lips once more.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @elronds-pointy-ears, @elrondscalaquendi, @dilf-superiority

#young elrond #elrond x reader #rop elrond #elrond rop #elrond x you #elrond peredhel #meg's writing #prompt game #thanks for the request!#I hope you like it!!!#elrond #rop #rop fanfiction #this one I really liked how the style of the writing ended up #i love writing men on their knees it's just such a great display of devotion and men should bring that back #young!elrond #young elrond fanfic #bridgerton inspired #anon request

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collectivecloseness · 11 months

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I have this angsty mess of ideas that I don't know how to put together but I'm gonna try to explain it. So like Steve has been in love with you since like forever and you become friends in season one blah blah blah you're inseparable etc, you have the tendency saving Steve's ass everytime but then you die while saving him and steve never got the chance to confess (not really that important but I guess it adds emotional damage idk) he obviously blames himself for it and everytime his phone rings he answers with the hope that for some fucked up reasons it's you and you're actually still alive but stuck in the upside down. Everyone is concerned about him bc it feels like he's slowly going crazy and is very much delusional.

Idk if that's like very long or makes no sense at all so sorry in advance, your eyes must be bleeding after reading this. :/

Robin being the one to always check on Steve after he loses you. She knew what you meant to Steve, most shifts mentioned you, and your recent interactions with Steve, most nights were him- were the both of them, talking on the phone about you. She loved the whole will they won’t they, and the puppy love gossip with Steve. Now she wished she’d pushed more, at least Steve would feel better if you’d known.

Robin’s learnt to be more open and vulnerable, since she’s been the one to look after Steve, being emotional and like a true friend, rather than snarky and quippy and teasing with him. She’s always coming in to check on him with her key to his house, pressing her hand on his shoulders each time she says hi, unless she’s rushing to comfort him again.

Robin tells him a few times “You know I said I can move in, or we could both move to our own place! I’m lonely! Besides, I love spending time with my best friend.” Robin’s been encouraging it. Her and Steve had breiefly passed the ideas before, before you, but she got the feeling back then they both badly would have liked it, living together, but neither wanted to be the first to come on too strong and vulnerable. It was different now. And Robin really didn’t want Steve to be lonely either. Besides, Robin came over to Steve’s literally every day she could anyway.

But to Steve, Robin wasn’t you. He still loves Robin, as her own person and his friend, he doesn’t compare you two at all. But Steve worried the constant company might make him go crazier than he already feels. It also wouldn’t allow for any of his unhealthier coping mechanisms. Steve would argue in his head, even crying or screaming himself to sleep, he wouldn’t be able to do anymore, but he’d done that in front of some of his friends anyways.

Robin, Nancy, Eddie, Dustin, all of his friends all worried about him. Max, Lucas and El had come over yesterday. Joyce makes sure to drop by a couple of times a week at least. Robin came every day, while the others did sometimes, varying in frequency. They knew Steve wasn’t healthy.

Sometimes, Steve whipped his head to the side, out of nowhere, or maybe with a small sound one of them picked up, from years of fear of monsters from other dimensions. But they knew it wasn’t Steve being scared of bumps in the night. It was because he thought he may have heard you. It was a glimmer of hope, just for a second, and they hated seeing it shatter each time.

Steve did worry about bumps in the night too. Steve worried about the next time he’d have to fight, no matter what it might be. Because this time, no one would come to save him.

You were always the first to come for him. You specifically sought Steve out first, checked on him first, he was always your first choice, the one you always checked on, the one you’d always save. You were with Steve for all his fuck ups. You’d seen him grow, and he knows you’d never judged him for his past once he actually got better. Not once. No one else had done that. But you also made Steve better. And he was still scared he won’t be as much now, without you.

But on the other hand, Steve wasn’t sure he really wanted anyone to save him next time. If the next time he dies saving the others, then whatever. He couldn’t save you. At least he could be with you then.

No one would be designated to check Steve first, to save him first, and that’s what he got. Steve always put himself in front of danger first, and now he’d lost you, there would be no one to save him. It was his price.

Steve wanted to go back straight after. He wanted to go back for you the next day, and the day after. To the place he’d left you. At the end of the week, he told Robin his plans, with his rucksack already on his back. And not only did she physically hold Steve to the floor, but she locked all the doors as she walkied Eddie and Nancy - not the kids, she knew when Steve was better, even now, he wouldn’t want the kids to see him like this - and Eddie had to bear hug Steve so he wouldn’t try to leave, while all of them gently tried to talk their friend down. They said it was a suicide mission! And that’s when Steve screamed “I DON’T CARE!” Trapped in his friends arms. Screaming those words not enough overemotionally, but too genuinely, that it really got them worried. Steve was still fighting to leave. He had collapsed into tears after that. He wanted to go and he meant it.

Nancy wanted to sedate him by that point, because she was too worried Steve would leave. But Robin put her foot down at that thought. It would create a super bad spiral, and Steve wouldn’t trust them, she knew they had to do something else! Luckily Robin thought of something. Mixed in with Steve’s yells at Eddie, Eddie trying to talk to Steve, and Nancy on edge and trying to not look as upset as she probably was while getting Robin to think of something else before she snapped.

Robin called the number she knew to, and soon afterwards, Joyce was entering Steve’s home with her own spare key. Joyce let Steve cry into her lap, and she stroked his back, talking when Steve wanted to, only lulling her own assurances when he didn’t, and just soothing Steve, until he fell asleep like that, in his room with her. Robin knew Steve wouldn’t fight Joyce to leave, or yell too much at her or anything. Steve had fallen asleep early in the afternoon, and Nancy didn’t even need to sedate him because he stayed asleep, luckily for the entire night. Joyce wouldn’t leave. She wanted to stay until morning, she didn’t want to leave Steve overnight, or at all right now.

Joyce even made breakfast the morning after, making sure to stay by Steve’s side because he’d always eat her cooking if she was there. And it was a sickly sweet feeling for everyone watching whenever that happened, because Steve would take a few bites and then finish his plate clean. But they knew he’d probably only had a few bites the day before, with how much he gorged on Joyce’s dishes when she was around to eat with him.

Robin stayed in bed with Steve most nights for sleepovers. That night Joyce had, which she’d done quite a few times. Nancy or Eddie had done it several times more, too. Sometimes Steve would say look, he really just wanted tonight alone. And if they trusted the way he said it, he got that. They understood sometimes he did need that. But Robin also hates leaving Steve alone, because she knows nights are worse for him (and in general as well). She didn’t want to be overbearing though, something friends when she was younger would stop being her friends for, but a trait she’d stopped shielding when she needed to be Steve’s open support. But to be honest, even if Steve couldn’t mourn as well if he wasn’t alone at night, those mostly seemed like mourning in the destructive ways.

Steve knew he was safe with Robin, or Nance, or Eddie, or Joyce there, from monsters, and from himself. Not that he was thinking of that last part, he was trying to convince them, but he wasn’t very good at stopping his brain from eating himself alive, because he didn’t feel like he wanted to stop. He wanted punishment.

At one point, after you’d died, Eddie had tried to give Steve something of yours, an item he got from your house when he went to visit your family. When he’d explored your now, forevermore, empty room. But Steve had a moment, and was mad that Eddie had ruined your shirt, forever tainting it with his smell, and his touch, and not leaving it the way you had the day you’d gone to meet Steve and the others. Steve had later apologised for freaking out on Eddie about it. Something Eddie casually waved his hand over, promising Steve never could be freaky, and saying it was okay, he was sorry too. Steve didn’t really want to think about anymore. That top still felt slightly tainted, no matter how ridiculous Steve knew it was. He just didn’t have much left of you, that was still untouched. That was yours, and had still last been touched, moved, adored, by you. So Robin didn’t bring Steve things from your house. She’d just tell him if she found something, if he wanted to look at it, or go over later. To which Steve would generally just nod at her.

Steve had had a few moments, but luckily, he’d had friends there every single time. No matter how different the moments were. If it was him spiralling, down dangerous paths for himself. Him accidentally spooking someone, maybe by lashing out, or just not having the energy to look after someone else, even if they were upset because of his crumbling. Including the ones, where Steve would adamantly deny the facts in front of him. It was like the first two days, Steve knew you were dead. And he always did, of course. The fact never left his soul. But after that things changed, and became slightly more of a purgatory, Steve always seemed even just a fraction hazy.

One time Robin had come back to Nancy crying, and Steve sobbing loud like a broken child on the floor. Steve had sworn it was you who had called. But he’d missed the call, running and slipping since he’d been in the shower when it rang. Nancy and Robin guessed he’d been thinking about you. And with a hand to his forehead between his wails on the floor, Robin knew he’d made the water too hot, again. Steve had tried to call back, but it wouldn’t work. And he yelled at Nancy for not picking up the phone, but that was only after she’d tried to gently remind him that it couldn’t be you. And then Steve had done everything to try and call back, almost breaking his phone till Nancy had wrestled it away from him. And when he realised he couldn’t, either call back, or call you, Robin hadn’t quite gotten through to him about it, Steve had collapsed into pained sobs, so distraught, and so unable to be taken out of his pain, that Nancy was sobbing too.

El had left inconsolable once, because Steve had asked multiples times if she could somehow contact you in the upside down. No one had realised, Steve had gotten El to agree one time, until she called Joyce crying because she couldn’t find you, and now she couldn’t get Steve to talk, he just had his head in his hands. But the next day, when El came to visit, with chocolates she always liked to give Steve since she heard they were good for making people happy, he’d apologised and she was herself quite easily again. Something Robin was very relieved with, knowing it would have wrecked Steve if he thought he’d hurt one of the kids.

Dustin had been turned away by Eddie before, on days Steve said he didn’t want to see anyone, which if he said that exactly, made people come over to check if he was okay. And on a day Steve wasn’t doing very well, and had Nancy and Robin bandaging his hands up because he’d punched a mirror, swearing he saw you in the reflection in a blink of his eye, and thinking for that split second maybe it was a gateway to the upside down. Although they were pretty relieved he realised that wasn’t the case straight away, no one wanted Dustin to see Steve like that, least of all Steve. But even Dustin’s visits, as the encouraging little brother, didn’t always bring a smile to Steve’s face, even a fake one he couldn’t muster. Some days, there was just little that could help.

Robin thought maybe Steve only sometimes thought this, even if there was a 0.5% chance always in the back of his head, that maybe, somehow, you were still alive somewhere. It wouldn’t matter where, because then Steve would find you. Robin wished more than anything they had your body, mostly for you, but also for Steve, and for all your friends and family. But she wasn’t going to risk anyone, to go on a suicide mission. And she didn’t want anyone else to leave Steve either. Steve wouldn’t always bring it up. But occasionally there’d be flare ups, where Steve would go on about how you could be out there. Robin was the one who’d decided she’d never flat out disagree with Steve if he got like that. He always needed one person he felt like he could always trust. So even though she never encouraged it, even if for the first week, and now she still had that 0.4% chance in the back of her mind, she’d more try to go through why Steve thought that, and be by his side as the others tried to explain.

But Robin felt at least slightly successful with every little breakthrough she and Steve had together. She was normally there for his, even if she wasn’t the one helping him get to that point anyways. But the biggest breakthrough came a night, where the day leading up to it had been pretty normal.

Keith had actually been very generous with bereavement leave for Steve, even indulging Robin every time Steve called the store in tears, panicking, and needing Robin back immediately. Today had been okay. None of them were good. But she’d come over about 9am, Eddie calling right before he knew she’d leave, to say he was dropping off McDonald’s breakfast for them both just before ten, because he had to go help his uncle with some errands today.

Robin had helped set out a fresh set of clothes for Steve, ones Nancy had left in a pile in his room yesterday afternoon when she’d been with him. Robin smiled at her little post it notes Nancy left around, for Steve, and for his friends around the house. But Robin setting out Steve’s clothes always helped kick him up just a notch enough to get out of bed and go shower. Eddie had stayed for fifteen minutes, and Steve had even watched this time as he and Robin threw hash browns off each other’s faces. Steve sometimes found it hard to watch, when other people were smiling. Robin had been really proud of him today.

Then Steve even picked out what they should have for lunch, and although Robin wasn’t sure Steve could exactly be craving a salad, she was still really happy he’d suggested something, and got to work on Nancy’s refrigerated Tupperware boxes and groceries. Nancy liked to cut things up when she had the time. Robin was pretty slow no matter what she had to cook, because otherwise she was clumsy, and no one liked to focus on something and leave Steve alone. Nancy probably chopped things up yesterday when Joyce came to visit Steve as well.

The one time Robin cut her finger when cooking for Steve with Eddie, Steve had had a full blown panic attack, but he also either thought it was your blood he was seeing, or remembered yours. Steve threw the knife to the side, grabbing Robin’s wrists and panicking, until she soothed him into remembering where he was, and who he was with, and that she was unharmed, and when Steve was back, Eddie could take him away for a second while Robin found the newly restocked first aid kit. The other times she’d hurt herself since, she’d hidden them from Steve’s sight very quickly.

Steve had picked between a variety of activities Robin suggested after lunch, and two person board and card games it had been. Everyone had been buying or donating games to the Harrington household, even the kids had been giving theirs over. So Steve never was bored of any of the games, and he could play them.

Hopper and Karen had actually both taught Steve how to play solitaire, when Mike and El had dropped off some more game to donate. A joke even Steve gave a breathy chuckle at when Eddie said there two people to explain the most famous one player game. But Robin was glad Steve might have something to do to take his mind off things when alone. She knew focusing could be hard sometimes right now for him, so she got that they both tried to explain the game. Also, Karen and Hopper did talk over each other quite a bit in explanation.

But after that, Robin had whipped something quick together for dinner, and Steve had stayed to talk with her in the kitchen the entire time. He even got out glasses and some soda. Even though Robin did most of the talking, Steve took part, which was good. But also, Steve liked talking with Robin. Because she’d talk so much, and be so passionate about what she was saying, he didn’t even need to say much to be part of the conversation, and it was something about his best friend he really appreciated at the moment, even though he used to joke about never getting a word in edgeways. Eddie was a bit the same.

Steve held the remote as they channel surfed, sitting on the couch together with their meals on their laps, since neither of them really liked the silence while eating, and Robin was pretty talked out after finishing her story in the kitchen.

But when Steve had flicked through two news channels, he froze as he immediately recognised the scene in front of him. It was from a romance film you loved, about two thirds of the way through. Steve recognised it from the first frame, from the first note of its score, as he turned over the channel.

Robin recognised it too, although she hadn’t watched it fully, and she hadn’t watched it nearly as many times as Steve had with you. She tried to keep her face blank as she looked to Steve, only a light questioning, curious expression, to see how he was feeling, before she let any of her own thoughts and feelings make him spiral. But Steve simply said “Gotta put something on, the food.” and picked up his fork, turning the volume up enough to cover any chewing sounds, like he’d done for Robin since the first time they watched tv and ate together. That had been long before he lost you.

Steve had finished quickly, but that was just a few scenes before the most important part of the romance film. The confession scene. And Steve was crying before it had even started.

Tears streamed down his face, the two leads finally starting to open up, and explain how they were really feeling. His eyes not even brown, but looking black, so big and red ridden, his cheeks drowned. Robin felt her heart hammering watching Steve crushed again, but she tried to be the best friend she possibly could, as she was always learning to now. Robin reached just a little for the remote on the coffee table, eyes questioning on Steve. But he turned to her and shook his head, so she leaned back and kept the movie on. Steve watched the film, as Robin watched both it and him. Scooting even closer, so their sides were pressed together, as Steve continued to cry. And then, even Robin was tearing up. Especially as the scene continued. And Robin wrapped her arm around Steve’s waist, her other holding his closest hip, and they both quietly sobbed watching the love confession scene, of your favourite romantic movie you’d watched a thousand times.

Just a scene you never got to live out in your young life. A scene Steve never gave you.

Steve turned to Robin as the couple shared their first kiss, the happy score coming on as the confession was over, it all goes well, and with the way Steve’s shoulders are shaking and his chest is heaving, Robin knows he needs her. She immediately opens her arms, pulling Steve in who sobs heartily into her shoulder, all her shirts used to having snot and tears and spit on them now. And she cries too, quieter than Steve, but still all the same, as she rocks him, holding him close through his heart break, through his loss, through his pain, as Steve cries loud into his best friend.

Steve mumbles everything he’s said a thousand times over. How he’s lost you. How he needs you. How you can’t be gone. That Steve wants you. That you’re dead. And that word hits hard. That word took him a while to say, after the second day of screaming it.

And when Steve pulls back, and Robin holds him still, Steve looks deep into his best friends eyes, and he shakes as he tells her the one thing he still hasn’t said yet. “I loved them.”

And Robin rubs her hands up and down Steve’s arms, as she smiled so sadly, and wept so dearly. “I know.”

Steve hiccuped, and a small groan left him. Robin still smiling sadly, still stroking him. Steve looks down, but not a lot, and Robin can always tell Steve’s thoughts, even if it’s gotten harder now. Steve just wants to think.

“How did you?” He asks, sniffling, and swallowing.

Did you know too? Maybe if Robin knew... maybe you did too. Steve just wanted you to know. He should have given you that. But maybe if you knew... even if you didn’t feel the same way, maybe you knew somebody loved you, maybe you knew he saw you just like you did him, before you were stolen.

“Well first of all, you were very romantic, lover boy, always talking about them, always filling the world with your golden thoughts about them.”

Steve liked the way Robin spoke. He thought maybe she’d picked some stuff up from Eddie too. Even knowing his loving thoughts about you had been spoken into the world you’d been living in... even if it wasn’t the one your body was in now, it gave him just a flicker of hope. A bite less of guilt.

“And...” Robin faltered now. He hands falling to Steve’s wrists, and he looked up more inquisitive now.

“And they talked about their crush on you. It’d only been a couple of days before... into the whole upside down thing. Otherwise I’d have manoeuvred you two into each other as soon as I knew, even if I had to trick you and lock you dinguses in a room or something. But that’s all y/n talked about those days.

Steve sucked in air. People didn’t say your name much anymore. Probably scared of his reaction, but Steve missed it. He needed people to bring you up, to remember you, to say your name.

“All they talked about was how they’d been in love with you for years, but recently it was too much to bear, and they just had to tell you. I told them to go for it, that I thought you might realllly like them back! But, y/n wanted to wait to tell you after we saved the world.”

Robin looked up at Steve. He was still crying, and she was joining him again. Her hands squeezed his wrists, and Steve’s knees turned to face Robin those few centimetres more, leaning warmly against her own. “And I agreed. And I wanted to wait until you brought it up again. Until you said again, that you loved them, like you used to tell me every day.”

Robin had hoped it would be less painful that way. While Steve wished it had been you he’d been telling it to every day instead.

“And... was it the right thing to do?” Robin gasps for air with her sob, shaking under Steve now.

And his breaths were gasping, his best friends starting to mirror, as his head shook up and down. “Yeah... it was.”

Robin threw her arms around Steve again, and he moaned as he held her back, so so tightly. Gripping onto Robin’s shoulders like he’d never have to let go again, as Robin nearly scrambled on top of his legs. Both of them crying open mouthed into each others shoulders. Teeth and spit and tears latched on. Neither of the best friends caring about being any semblance of perfect, and not wrecked, not when they were with each other. And they held each other so tight, so hard, as if the grief in their hearts was a magnet, pushing them even closer, but Steve and Robin never wanted to let go of each other, to help the burden of that grief.

Steve and Robin missed you, so much.

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