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runningupthatvecna · 1 year

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the law of seat partners | part 2

a/n: ok so the response to part 1 of my first ever eddie blurb has been quite surprising and i've had ideas for a second part while writing it so i guess that's what's happening here now. this part is definitely longer (you're welcome) and will lead to a part 3, so no worries there everyone. i definitely recommend reading part 1 first though to get more context. enjoy and i live for reblogs and comments so i'd appreciate you leaving me some :)

summary: the bus ride continues and so does your feeling that eddie might like you a bit more than the others. also, he eats all most of your snacks and it (among other things) makes you realise that you're down bad for him. also you learn that his hands are just generally quite warm.

cw/tw: more of eddie being a touchy menace while trying real hard to make reader aware of his affection. kinda friends to lovers with eventual spice in part 3. slow burn, kinda? slapping of butts, a bit of mutual pining (reader is emotionally ... confused), mentions of eddie being treated poorly by people, mentions of eddie partaking in illegal activities, also a lot of eddie being a sweet bean. no mentions of y/n.

read part 1 here

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It was the halt of the bus that woke you up from your pre-noon nap on Eddie Munson's head.

His hand was still resting on your thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze before he lifted his head from your shoulder and straightened himself.

The touch wasn't entirely new to you, since you had figured out this was the primary way he expressed a certain level of affection. Because he also was like this with the others of your group and you hadn't dared to read too much into it. At least until now.

"Looks like the babies already need a diaper change."

His mumbled comment on what seemed to be the first break on the road made you snort.

You loved the fact that he seemed to share your disapproval of having a rampage of middle schoolers sharing the bus with you on this trip.

Eddie turned his head to you, his deep brown doe eyes slowly wandering over your facial features while is mouth was lightly curled into a smile. Yours was slightly tilted towards him, reciprocating his gaze right before a familiar voice made both of your heads turn.

"Hey, you guys wanna head outside for a stretch?", Steve's pretty lean figure had appeared in front of your seats, he stood on one of the lower steps of the staircase leading out of the back door.

Again, Eddie turned his head to check on you. Because if you would rather stay in your seat, so would he.

You cracked a smile at Steve who was just now followed by Nancy, Robin and Dustin, all of them awaiting his exit in the aisle.

"Sounds good", you replied, while your friends hopped out of the vehicle into the warm Indiana sun which was, thankfully, still more than visible in the blue sky.

It was warmer outside than on the parking lot this morning, which made you decide leave any additional jacket or hoodie inside the bus. You weren't the type to get cold easily anyway. Following an energetically bouncing Eddie down the stairs, you both made your way over towards where Steve, Robin, Nancy and Dustin were gathered.

Not long after, you had the Byers brothers standing among you as well.

"Anyone going for a wee?", Robin asked in her blatant straight-forward no filter fashion you celebrated her for. It made you smile. "We still have six minutes and I've been holding it since we left the parking lot."

"Yeah I'll come", Nancy replied to her, before they wandered off towards the building together and left you among the group of boys who wouldn't have minded just stepping out into the bushes along the fence of the road house.

Steve was the only one who seemed to take the going outside for a stretch literal, because right now his entire figure was bent in half as he leaned forward to let his arms dangle towards the ground while he tried his best to keep his legs straight.

And Dustin's observant facial expression, which was slowly turning into a grin told you that he was desperately fighting the urge to playfully slap Steve's ass.

I mean, fair.

Eddie also had seemed to notice and it took him only a mere few seconds to decide on executing Dustin's obvious thoughts.

"Hey man, stop that!"

Steve snapped back up and let his fist hit Eddie's shoulder with a laugh.

"Just giving you what you don't seem to get anywhere else these days, big boy."

It left both Steve and Dustin speechless. Witty comebacks? Not existent in their brains.

You blurted out a laugh, since you knew that Eddie's remark was true. As one of Steve's best friends, you just knew.

The metalhead grinned widely, threw his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close enough for you to hear his low voice, while moving the both of you back towards the bus.

"Come on darling, napping always makes me hungry."

Yeah. His love language was touch.

-----

"Alright everyone, get back into your seats, we're leaving!"

Ms Kelley's voice echoed through the microphone she picked up from the driver's booth while standing in the very front of the bus, trying to get everyone's attention.

Unlike the middle school kids further in the front, you and Eddie had already settled back in long ago.

The vehicle started moving again.

"Is there anything besides being around children of course, that you're particularly looking forward to this week?", the metalhead asked with a genuinely curious tone.

"Oh please, there's nothing I enjoy more than having screaming kids around me, I thought you knew that about me already."

You pretended to think really hard for a few seconds and let out a chuckle, before you continued.

"No, but I get to spend time with you guys. Outside of school, outside of Hawkins. And I love lakes and being in nature. The fresh air, the cool water, I prefer that over any hotel room in any city, if I'm hone– ... Eddie, what are you d–"

While you were speaking, the boy next to you found it to be the perfect time to lean forward and try to reach for the snack bag you had carefully placed between your feet.

"Keep talking sweetheart, I'm listening." He had turned his head towards you, unable to hide another one of those big grins that you secretly adored on him. So much.

You couldn't necessarily see his movements, but you sure as hell could feel them. His right hand kept brushing and his fingers kept tapping against your jean covered calves and shins and ankles, pretending to be on the search for a certain bag, but the more time it took him to actually get it, the more it dawned on you that he was doing this very much on purpose.

What a fucking menace.

And by the way, where were his snacks?

"Eddie, just fucking grab it", you said with a laugh, letting him know you were well aware of the little game he was playing.

"Hm, it's quite nice down here to be honest. Could get used to it."

You just rolled your eyes at him with a smile, let your head hit the rest behind it and turned your head towards the window, while you felt the bag being pulled away from inbetween your feet.

In the corner of your eye you watched him peek into and rummage through it. He was sticking out his tongue, like he always did when he was trying to focus. You'd seen him do it too when he would be working on writing campaigns for Hellfire during lunch break in the cafeteria.

"Like what you see?", you asked him, without breaking contact with the headrest. You didn't dare to turn your head either.

Four hours had passed since you left the high school parking lot in Hawkins, and you don't think you ever spent that long with Eddie. Certainly not in this close proximity.

There was some form of tension building between you two. And you couldn't quite place it. He was his usual charming self, yeah sure, but there was an additional something to it.

"Yeah, I do."

If you would have turned your head, you would have noticed the fact that his eyes weren't taking in the selection of your snacks anymore.

You would have certainly placed his entire demeanor in a new context if you would have paid attention to the way the tone of his voice changed to something more soft and warm, saying those three words.

You turned your head towards him. And you were way too far down the road of overthinking for you to catch the spark in the dark brown of his eyes and the way the corner of his mouth slightly curled up.

As if he actually liked liked you.

But you still smiled back at him.

"Go ahead then pretty boy, all yours."

And maybe you also weren't referring to snacks anymore. But you didn't expect Eddie to catch that.

What you did notice though was him catching your compliments. The way heat was visibly rising to his cheeks.

Eddie Munson had never received a lot of them. Sadly so, due to the fact that he was known as the freak of the town. Being a nerd with a bunch of tattoos, always involved in some kind of trouble, hotwiring cars, dealing drugs and of course the town's favourite classic: worshipping satan. When in fact, he was just trying to be a good friend, going out of his way to make the people dearest to him feel good (and maybe not using the most legal methods ever while doing so), and just heavily enjoying things he found really cool. He was always just being himself.

You had to admit to yourself that you were more than curious to see and explore the effects of your compliments on him. Because you were sure that if you just kept dropping them, they would eventually help him feel better about himself. And you knew from conversations with your friends that he did need that. And most of all, deserved it.

Soft baby cow personality, yeah.

For more general coziness on a ten hour bus ride, you had taken off your shoes right after the first break. You slightly turned your back towards the window and pulled your legs up to let them rest on the little barrier in front of both your seats.

And just after that, you were handed the snack bag by the boy next to you.

Before you knew it, he grabbed both of your legs a little above your ankles (with his really warm hands, like, really warm hands) and pulled them over his thighs. It made your breath hitch in your throat.

Then he took back the snacks. Between his torso and your legs.

"Gotta set the table then, right?", Eddie flatly said with a smirk, while pulling out a box of crackers. It made you snort.

Why did he have to be like this? And why did you like him so much for it?

You ended up sharing half of the contents of your snack bag with Eddie. Seated like this, one of his hands fumbling in whatever plastic bag or cardboard box of snack he could find, holding them out to you when he noticed you going empty on your last grab, his other resting on one of your shins, while his thumb kept rubbing slow, small circles into the flesh through your jeans.

The warmth of his hand felt like fire.

Eventually you had to keep him from munching through the remainders too, reminding him that you still had at least half of the journey ahead of you.

He had pouted at you all cute, and you had felt your cheeks heat up at him dropping another pet name at you while protesting.

You seemed to keep pushing the right buttons for him to be all sweet with you. And yeah, of course you couldn't deny that you enjoyed his attention.

During your time munching away, you both even came to learn new things about each other.

There were conversations about your families, milestones of your lives, hopes and dreams that some you surprisingly seemed to be sharing, similarities in your outlooks on life, Eddie's slightly questionable moral compass when it came to illegal activities, and your shared love and passion for music.

Pretty much everything he told you was confirming or adding to your already existent image of him.

After a content sigh, Eddie suddenly made attempts to get up into the aisle (he was kind enough to softly place your legs on his seat first though) and reached up into the luggage compartment. He was searching for his own bag of stuff that you were surprised he hadn't forgotten on his bed in the morning.

And yes. Your eyes just had to travel over the stretch of his Hellfire shirt down over his torso, all the way to where a sliver of pale skin revealed itself to you and the light trail of dark hair disappeared into the waistband of his black jeans, which was tied to his hips with his iconic handcuff belt. And it was giving you ideas.

It was pretty much the first time you saw any other part of his skin other than his forearms, even though you'd known him for like, half a year now. There just hadn't been any moments yet where this situation could have happened.

You were so lost in thoughts about Eddie Munson's happy trail that you missed him catching you. Looking. In fact, you seemed to keep your eyes glued to his belly until his voice snapped you out of it.

The growing smirk on his face you saw next was as prominent as your awareness of your own feelings towards him. Just now in this moment you started to realise that if you kept this up, if you kept letting him in, there would probably be no escape. No escape from tripping over the edge and falling into the endless void of pining after him, probably forever.

Ever since you had first met him at one of Steve's infamous parties, it had been crystal clear to you that you were going to have a thing for him.

The way his wild mane had accentuated his beautiful face with his round dark brown eyes and the plushness of his lips in the warm light of Harrington's living room, his smell, a mix of cigarettes, bergamot, cheap cologne and something you couldn't make out but was so distinctly Eddie, the omnipresent leather jacket and Dio jeans vest, tattoos you'd spotted on his forearms, his entire rough metalhead aura that you always found to be so captivating.

"You know that as your designated seat partner, it underlies my absolute obligation to not only eat all your snacks you brought just for me of course, but in return to also make you listen to the best songs in the world.", Eddie explained to you with raised eyebrows, wide eyes and an equally wide grin after he had seated himself again and gestured for you to put your legs back on his thighs.

And who were you to say no to that?

He waved a self made mixtape under your nose. It made you chuckle.

You prided yourself on being a music nerd, so the fact that he was willing to share his music with you was definitely one of the most meaningful things he could have chosen to do with you at this point.

"Oh, how gracious of you, Munson, considering it was you who kept a seat for me", you smiled while taking out your headphones and walkman, which was so technically advanced that it had two plugs for two pairs of headphones. How convenient.

He let out a small, low chuckle while nudging your shoulder with his own.

You held out the second plug of the walkman out in his direction, and he didn't waste the opportunity to place his hand above yours which was holding out the device, to give it more support while his other hand connected the cable of his own.

And just when you were about to press play for the first song to fill your ears, Ms Kelley's microphone filtered voice filled them instead.

"We're going to have lunch break now, everyone! Please be back here in thirty minutes, yes?"

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tagged: my dear @josephfakingquinn and @ghost-proofbaby

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fluff #the law of seat partners #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #nora writes #part 2 is heeeeere #took me long enough lol #there will be part 3 #cause how could i not write about eddie eventually throwing reader into the lake #i really hope everyone likes this #it's also okay if not #wild that this all came out of me just from a very brief dream about eddie #lol #stranger things

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hanzajesthanza · 6 months

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it really does matter so much that fringilla vigo is nilfgaardian, beauclairoise, for many reasons, but let's start here:

her entire role is that of an illusionist; one which she would not be were it not for her family lineage, rooted in beauclair:

There was a corridor in Beauclair Palace, and at the end a chamber, the existence of which no one knew about. (...) The corridor and the chamber, disguised by a powerful illusion, were known only to the palace’s original elven builders. And later–when the elves had gone, and Toussaint became a duchy–to the small number of sorcerers linked to the ducal house. Including Artorius Vigo, a master of magical arcana and great specialist in illusions. And his young niece, Fringilla, who had a special talent for illusions.

and since her talent in illusions is well-defined in the series, as it is her who grants geralt the very silver-mounted chrysoprase amulet which saves his life in the final fight against vilgefortz:

Geralt clenched Fringilla’s medallion in his fist. The bar fell with a clang, striking the floor a foot from the Witcher’s head. Geralt rolled away and quickly got up on one knee. Vilgefortz leaped forward and struck. The bar missed the target again by a few inches. The sorcerer shook his head in disbelief and hesitated for a second. (...) ‘I didn’t know …’ Yennefer said at last, scrambling out of a pile of rubble. She looked terrible. The blood trickling from her nose had poured all over her chin and cleavage. ‘I didn’t know you could cast illusory spells,’ she repeated, seeing Geralt’s uncomprehending gaze, ‘capable even of deceiving Vilgefortz.’ ‘It’s my medallion.’ ‘Aha.’ She looked suspicious. ‘A curious thing...’

that talent is something which cannot, by far, be separated from her character. and returning back to her lineage, it is again her familial relations which place her in beauclair.

she was positioned there, ready to intercept geralt, as early as the autumnal equinox in september, by which time geralt had barely just left the town of riedbrune:

The world over, the autumn Equinox was a night of spectres, nightmares and apparitions, a night of sudden, suffocating awakenings, fraught with menace, among sweat-soaked and rumpled sheets. Neither did the most illustrious escape the apparitions and awakenings; (...) In the huge castle of Montecalvo the sorceress Philippa Eilhart leaped from damask sheets, without waking the Comte de Noailles’ wife. The dwarf Yarpen Zigrin in Mahakam, the old witcher Vesemir in the mountain stronghold of Kaer Morhen, the bank clerk Fabio Sachs in the city of Gors Velen and Yarl Crach an Craite on board the longboat Ringhorn all awoke more or less abruptly. The sorceress Fringilla Vigo came awake in Beauclair Castle*, as did the priestess Sigrdrifa of the temple of the goddess Freyja on the island of Hindarsfjall.

* Slight correction - As explained in Chapter 3 of Lady of the Lake, Beauclair is not a castle, but a palace.

and she's only invited to beauclair in such a capacity because she is a relative of the duchess:

‘I’m in Beauclair because the largest, best-stocked library in the known world is here. Apart from university libraries, naturally. But universities are jealous of giving access to their shelves, and here I’m a relation and good friend of Anarietta and can do as I wish.’

(whom, you may note, she stands by and jointly receives geralt with at their first meeting, and participates in the festival of the vat with)

and therefore, she was in a perfectly strategic position to delay geralt, keep him captive:

‘(...) Please at least tell us … has the Witcher calmed down now? Are you capable of keeping him in Toussaint at least until May?’ (…) ‘No,’ she answered at last. ‘Probably not until May. But I’ll do everything in my power to keep him here as long as possible.’

because fringilla is not just an illusionist literally, as in the magic she is naturally gifted at, but 'illusionist' is her entire identity as a character.

and as her family hails from beauclair, this specific identity is compounded with the fact that beauclair itself is the center of illusions, a dreamland, a fairytale:

‘There’s something bewitched about this place, this fucking Toussaint. Some kind of charm hangs over the whole valley. Especially over the palace (...) no two ways about it, there’s something bewitched about this bloody Toussaint.’

fringilla is an illusionist because she is beauclairoise. she not only hails from a long line of illusionists, but hails from, is related to the ruler of, the very city of illusions and dreams.

she is the illusionist not just in a literal sense, but in the entire narrative role of casting an illusion over our hero, because it is the illusion of love which keeps her and geralt in beauclair. (the tricky trick is that geralt, taking a page out of yennefer's playbook of seduction, cleverness, patience, was able to cast an illusion upon the mistress of illusions herself, free himself from the witch's spell, awake from a pleasant dream to face the harsh reality).

(sighs) and even if you want to forget fringilla's beauclairoise identity and erase her entire positioning as the illusionist which poses a threat to our heroes, entices them to complacency, her role as nilfgaardian in the sense of her academic identity and imperial service also defines her.

because it is also fringilla, the illusionist who casts the wool over people's eyes... who blinded yennefer at sodden hill.

‘We’ve already met,’ Yennefer spoke again. ‘I don’t recall,’ Fringilla said without looking away. ‘I’m not surprised. But I have a good memory for faces and figures. I saw you from Sodden Hill.’ ‘In which case there can be no mistake,’ Fringilla Vigo said and raised her head proudly, sweeping her eyes over all those present. ‘I was at the Battle of Sodden.’ (...) ‘Occasionally one happens to see another person for only a split second, right before going blind, and one takes a dislike to them instantly.’ ‘Oh, enmity is considerably more complicated,’ Fringilla said, squinting. ‘Imagine someone you don’t know at all standing at the top of a hill, and ripping a friend of yours to shreds in front of your eyes. You neither saw them nor know them at all, but you still don’t like them.’ ‘So it goes,’ Yennefer said, shrugging. (...)

fringilla's (proud!) participation at the battle of sodden is a crux of the lodge, because she alongside her good friend, the scholarly assire, they are nilfgaardians who, owing to their nationality, find challenges meshing with the northern sorcereresses. the lodge brought together representatives of magic across nationalities in the midst of a raging, bloody war between them all.

and it's so integral to fringilla's character that she has imperial biases, that she approaches even the international lodge with an imperialist view.

with no factual basis, she initially exotifies and sexualizes the northern sorceresses, despite her own prior denial of these base stereotypes:

Fringilla Vigo was putting on a brave face, but she was anxious and stressed. She herself had often reprimanded young Nilfgaardian mages for uncritically yielding to stereotypical opinions and notions. She herself had regularly ridiculed the crude image painted by gossip and propaganda of the typical sorceress from the North: artificially beautiful, arrogant, vain and spoiled to the limits of perversion, and often beyond them. (...) Her untrammelled imagination offered up images of impossibly gorgeous women with diamond necklaces resting on naked breasts with rouged nipples, women with moist lips and eyes glistening from the effects of alcohol and narcotics. In her mind’s eye Fringilla could already see the gathering becoming a wild and depraved orgy accompanied by frenzied music, aphrodisiacs, and slaves of both sexes using exotic accessories.

she even has a difficult time understanding why the northern sorceresses are upset about the nilfgaardian invasion, believing it to be a boon to their society. only through their discussion does she just barely begin to grasp the meaning of "invasion" and why she wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it:

Some were clearly anxious about the close proximity of Nilfgaard. Fringilla had mixed feelings. She had assumed that such educated people would understand that the Empire was bringing culture, prosperity, order and political stability to the North. On the other hand, though, she didn’t know how she would have reacted herself, were foreign armies approaching her home.

all of this indoctrination into imperial beliefs, at the same time that she is an educated woman, and herself, as an imperial sorceress, known for being rebellious and an upstart within her own culture:

‘Stop staring,’ Assire said, touching her bouffant and glistening curls. ‘I decided to make a few changes. Why, I just took your lead.’ ‘I was always taken as an oddball and a rebel,’ Fringilla Vigo chuckled. ‘But when they see you in the academy or at court…’

this is such a chaotic rambling post, but all i want to say is that fringilla's character, like most of the minor characters in the witcher series, was not invented through random generation, a roll of the dice, a spin of the wheel. her specific traits - such as her nationality, lineage, talents - all relate back thematically. everything is relevant, specifically chosen to create a specific character.

if once changes her backstory (e.g., to place her at aretuza... though i don't know who would do such a thing for no reason) they would change her entire character, the series' commentary on imperialism, and because of her role she takes later on, even the entire ending of the story.

#fringilla vigo #c: fringilla #the witcher books #book: lady of the lake #listen i don't enjoy her character as in i don't think about her 24/7 but i am begging my fellow fans to not just throw her #entire character out because they don't like her or what she does or they think it's just a matter of preference if she goes to aretuza #because these specificities define her entire character which define the entire stay in beauclair which define the assault on stygga castle #which define the entire ENDING of the saga which define the MEANING of the saga #these little guys (fictional characters) are like dominos or jenga blocks. if you move one little thing it changes everything #like there's so much meaning and symbolism to the wintering in beauclair it kills me to see people throw it out the window #bro they were caught in a dream a pleasant dream #and you also know what. the way we see beauclair. is FROM a dream. from condwiramurs' intentional oneiromancy #it's literally a dream about dreams #AUGH i lose my shit over the fakedeepness of lady of the lake #also her name is the latin for chaffinch. she's a little bird: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fringilla #which i am... guessing... relates to the wintering theme... perhaps...#analysis

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