@steddie-week day 1: Hunger | 1.1k words
cw: light angst in that Steve is a little sad/dealing with some mental stuff but like hurt/comfort (not EDs which mental stuff combined with the prompt word might make it seem like, hunger is used as a metaphor)
Sometimes Steve doesn’t talk to anyone for days. He just shuts himself in his room and hides, barely leaves his bed. Pretends he doesn’t exist, or that time has stopped and he’s the only thing that exists.
Sometimes, he’ll go back too soon, feel bad for the ignored calls and drag himself out of bed to see the people who matter most to him. But it won’t feel warm and soft those times. He’ll be too raw and It’ll feel like they’re grabbing his insides and eating them. Pulling his heart and brain out of his body and devouring them without letting him eat theirs in return.
Usually, he’s okay with that. He knows his place, he knows that’s what he’s for. For other people to get fed. And he’s happy to feed, to do that for them.
He loves them, of course he’s gonna give himself over. It’s just that sometimes they take too much. They don’t know they do he thinks, they don’t know they’re eating him alive. That he’s presenting himself on a silver platter and letting them take take take, and that sometimes they take too much.
That’s why he disappears, so he can grow back. So he can give more. Because if he stops giving he's afraid they’ll get tired. He won’t be useful, he can’t give when he’s like that. He starts craving, he starts wanting. He feels starved and wants to take and feed too, and that’s not part of the deal. He’s not supposed to eat, he’s supposed to be eaten. So when he turns hungry and ravenous he hides, he isolates.
Robin is the only one who truly gets this about him, who doesn’t take and demand. She gently accepts the things he gives and never without giving too, forcing him to stay whole. It’s overwhelming and sometimes he has to hide from that too, he doesn’t know how to deal with the force of it. He’s so used to the constant hunger it’s a shock when it’s gone but he’s gotten better. And anyway, he and Robin are part of one whole so whatever is given or taken between them is never really gone. It stays with both of them.
Robin is the only one, or she was the only one he should say. Because now there’s Eddie. Eddie who gives and gives and gives, almost as much as he does. But who doesn’t seem to dwindle and dim like Steve does. Who doesn’t seem to starve or hunger. Eddie who notices when Steve does, when he stumbles and gets greedy. Who holds him up and makes him whole with a look, a touch, a word.
Eddie who breaks in through his window when he shuts himself in his big empty house and lays with him in his bed, softly telling Steve stories and running his fingers through his hair.
It’s wonderful.
It's the worst.
“I’m afraid you’re gonna end up as empty as me,” Steve tells him, whispers it into the dark. “That you’re here now and you’re giving and I’m taking and you’re gonna be the one left with nothing.”
Eddie doesn’t respond immediately but hums in acknowledgment, lets him know he heard and is thinking.
“This is good for me too,” he says eventually, “being with you and resting. Getting to be here for you when you never used to let anyone but Robin be. It’s good for me too.”
“It can be good and still drain you.” Says Steve, knows it to be true. He doesn’t resent giving the way he does, he loves it, it’s good. It drains him.
“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, “this doesn’t drain me, you’re comforting me too. It’s balanced.”
Balanced. That’s what Robin tells him too. That’s what Nancy sometimes asked him for when they dated and he couldn’t let her see the cracks. That’s what he wonders about with his other friends.
He doesn’t usually know how to do that. He doesn’t know where the lines are. He doesn’t understand how Eddie knows.
“You let me give, and I let you give, so it’s balanced. We don’t take from each other, we gift and we receive. It’s balanced. You have to let other people give sometimes too, Steve.”
It hits something deep in him, the last words. He knows this, he doesn’t want to know it.
“I’m afraid they won’t. if I open myself up to it. If I ask, I’m afraid they won’t.” He says it so quietly it’s almost inaudible but Eddie hears.
His hands still in Steve’s hair for a moment before moving again, gently scratching his scalp.
“I know baby. But that’s not fair, they want to give too. If they knew how much they took without giving back they’d be heartbroken. It’s not fair to you or them.”
Steve lets Eddies words wash over him, he knows he’s right. They’d be nauseous with it. His sweet wonderful friends and family would be crushed.
“Sometimes it will happen, maybe,” Eddie continues when Steve doesn’t respond beyond a sharp breath in. “Sometimes people won’t know how to give after only getting but you gotta let them try. Sometimes they’ll learn and adjust, sometimes they won’t and you’ll have to deal with that. But you can’t starve yourself like this because you won’t let them try.”
"What if I take too much?"
"Then they talk to you, like you should talk to them."
“When did you get so wise,” Steve snorts, his voice is tight but he makes the effort, tries to lighten the mood. Deflects, like he always does.
Eddie lets him, a little, knows Steve has to. But he’s still serious when he answers.
“Wayne is like a never-ending well of insight and digging around in everything, never lets me get away with shit.”
The opposite of Steve’s parents who were the first to take from him and never give, never look into his eyes and tell him to eat.
“He’s a good guy,” Steve tells Eddie instead of weighing him down more than he already has. Instead of acknowledging and relieving the hunger pang that strikes him at the thought. Even now, here, he doesn’t know how.
“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “I’m here to relay his wisdom, like playing telephone with whatever stuff he teaches me. The things your parents took away from you.”
Eddie still knows, of course, he does. He always knows.
“And what do you get?” Steve has to ask.
“I get you. I get everything.”
Steve smiles, turns around to kiss Eddie. He doesn’t feel empty when Eddie kisses him back, hungry. When he takes and devours.
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Nova
Rating: T
Word Count: ~5,700
Warnings: Brief memories of/current trauma from being swallowed alive, brief contemplation of death and what lies beyond
So after seeing the absolutely stunning art that @themeeplord posted of Naff's leviathan!Eclipse and fisher!Y/N, there's no way I could pass up writing a small something for it. I might have made Eclipse a tad bigger in this drabble purely for size difference purposes, but Meep's depiction of them is the inspiration for this piece. (I hope you don't mind the tag, Meep! ;w;)
This drabble is based off of @naffeclipse's In Deep Dreams Between the Waves (so very highly recommend!!) and set sometime after it, so there will be allusions to spoilers herein.
Enjoy!
~~~
The siren call of the ocean lulls your boat as much as it does you. Out here in the vast expanse of endless water where sea merges with ocean, the gentle stirring of the morning sun has yet to reach full wakefulness, casting the sky in a beautiful watercolor of lush indigos and mellow purples. The breeze caressing your face tells you it will be a hot day, but for now, it’s a welcomed brush against your skin.
You’ve opted for a less-bundled-up attire since you know what and who awaits you shortly. The loose t-shirt flutters at your back, and your light shorts and bare feet bask in the open, salty air. Curling your toes in excitement, you cannot help the enchanted smile that has yet to leave your face. You’ve been looking forward to today as the rough weather in recent weeks has kept you from seeing your friend. Well, it probably wouldn’t have completely kept you at bay were it not for said friend being very insistent about you staying home to wait out the hurricane. Something about being safe and warm and taking care of your health. Complete bogus, if anyone were to ask you.
But, of course, Eclipse always has other ideas about what’s best for you, and after much bartering in your dreams and getting nowhere, you’d caved to his utterly ridiculous demands. The oversized mer has a habit of being just as obstinate as you. You’d once thought you could outmatch his stubbornness, but turns out, it’s hard to say no when his big eyes turn soft and pleading, like you’re breaking his heart by even considering stepping foot outside during a nasty storm. Never mind that it’d been because you’d wanted to see him. He’d been adamant that the visits in your dreams could sate your loneliness in the meantime.
Needless to say, you’ve been chomping at the bit to get out. The hurricane had been circling your little island like a harrowing shadow for over a week, but it finally began tapering off yesterday, and by nightfall, Eclipse gave you his reluctant approval to come out the following day.
He probably didn’t mean that as an excuse for you to sacrifice sleep and slip out before the break of dawn, but he almost certainly knew that without you needing to say anything suggestive of it last night. The memory of his narrowed gaze and disapproving pout still makes you chuckle even now, and you can only imagine that same expression on his face when he sees you out here.
You’ve already dropped anchor and settled at the edge of your boat with your legs dangling over it and your arms propped atop the railing. The breeze ruffles your hair as it pleases, and it tickles your ears while you hum to yourself a gentle tune. It’s a unique one that transcends time and the waves themselves, flowing from within your chest and playing a soothing chord that first tugs softly and then a little firmer.
When your voice starts to rouse and the first few notes whisper past your lips, an answering echo from far, far below sounds beneath your feet and travels across the ocean floor.
Instantaneous is the grin tugging at your cheeks, and you beam at the way the wind suddenly billows in a different direction and sends your trusty flag flapping like a resounding applause. Your Rustbucket II bobs up and down as the water begins to turn choppy, creating a thrill of a ride as you eagerly peer down into the inky blue.
As bubbles form below, you dismiss what most sailors would consider an omen and instead lean over the railing as much as you can while sitting. Your legs swish happily, your skin prickling when a shiver courses through you. To your surprise, however, the bubbles stop after a few suspenseful seconds. A flash of a large shadow is all you catch sight of, but your friend doesn’t surface as you’d expected. Confused, you wait a moment more and then pull your legs under you and stand up so that you can lean over the railing as far as you can without falling in.
“Eclipse?” you call out. Your head tilts to the side while you listen.
Nothing but ocean responds.
A frown replaces your smile, and you wonder if something has temporarily distracted the mer, and he’s swimming off to go chase a giant squid or something similar. Before you can settle back down and wait for him to return, a colossal burst thunders behind you without warning and rocks your boat. Gasping, you have all but a moment to spin on your heel as Eclipse breaches in a swift motion that sends a terrific cascade of water directly down onto your boat and consequently you.
In mere seconds, you are entirely drenched in seawater and sputtering.
Soaked hair draped over and blinding you, you sigh loudly and brush it out of your face. Far, far above, your friend gazes down with a textbook version of glee. As soon as he sees your expression, a harmonious warble not unlike a laugh rumbles from his chest.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” you say in faux exasperation while wringing the water out of your hair. “Not like you haven’t done this before.”
The mer lowers in the water until his head is level with you, ray-like frills flicking, and your bond tells you exactly what he’s thinking, as if he were saying the words aloud.
And yet, you still fall for it every time.
You roll your eyes, and Eclipse chitters his delight.
“I guess it’s not like I wasn’t going to get wet anyways,” you huff in defeat.
Deciding it’s a lost cause to drain the water from your dripping clothes, you trudge over to him instead, making sure to step carefully through the large puddles. Yellow overlaid by impenetrable black oversees your maneuvering to be certain you reach the other side safely. Once you’re within reach, Eclipse leans in a little more, allowing you to rest your small hand against his large head and press a kiss between his eyes despite the little trick he pulled on you.
You watch the sharp yellow disappear as he basks in your affection and croons an unmistakably happy song. It’s enough to warrant the return of your smile.
“Good morning, big guy,” you say against his wet scales. “Missed you.”
The sentiment is returned tenfold through your bond, staggering in its sincerity, and Eclipse’s love threatens to reduce you to a puddle. The companionship with the leviathan has altered you in ways you could have never dreamed of, making you forever grateful for the day you discovered and helped him when he was but a little fish. You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world because a life without Eclipse is one you can’t fathom. He means everything to you.
As your thoughts shift, Eclipse hears them just as if you’d spoken, and a low sound purrs from his throat. He nuzzles you with utmost gentleness, and you press as close to him as you can.
Yeah, you missed this. Shared dreams are one thing, but having him here with you in the flesh is incomparable. It’s your lifeblood.
When you pull back, the leviathan peers at you again. His expression is so compassionate that it sets your heart soaring like you are a fish in the sea swimming alongside him. The excursions you’ve had with him in the deep blue aren’t too far from that feeling, and it’s set in the very plans you have for later today. You intend to spend as much time as you can with the mer, and that means taking a hearty swim with his current guiding you along.
However, whatever soft moment you’re sharing now is wholly ruined when Eclipse chooses then to open his mouth and drag his serpentine tongue all the way up your front.
You yelp at the unexpected lick, and very swiftly, you are drenched in more than just water.
“Eclipse!” you cry in dismay.
Orange and red frills flutter in contentment. There is no remorse on the other’s face.
“Now I’m covered in gross saliva!” you further protest to express just how disgruntled you are. You shake your hands, and two wet globs fling off.
Eclipse churrs and clicks unhelpfully. It’s a bit similar to the squeaks of a dolphin, and after a fruitless attempt to wipe your face as best as you can, you glower up at your talkative friend.
He seems to be cycling through a whole host of expressions today because the one staring you down is now unquestionably smug.
You snort at the little—large—devil.
“Just what was that for anyways?”
The mer considers for a moment and then tilts his head to the side a little, eyelids falling low like he’s miming sleep. Then, a massive hand lifts out of the water to gently poke a long claw at you, followed by a throaty grumble that shakes your boat.
Ah. So that’s what this is about, huh. Should’ve known skipping out on sleep would come back to bite, or rather, lick you. You can’t say you didn’t see this coming.
“I promise I got enough sleep all through that nasty hurricane,” you counter adamantly. Eclipse looks far from convinced, so you continue on. “Even still, I have a cabin I can always dip inside for a quick nap if need be. Or you can float on your back and snooze with me on top like we usually do. We have the whole day to ourselves, big guy. And besides, I thought you missed me.”
Eclipse releases another series of noises at that, which are just plain mournful, and the flood of insistent reassurance and concern makes you huff and smile.
“I know, I know. I’m just teasing. I think I’m allowed to since I’m currently covered in…” You sniff and then grimace. “Overwhelming fish breath and questionable fluids.”
More snaps and clicks, but none of them are truly offended. Eclipse matches your fake glare easily, and when you playfully stick out your tongue, his mouth curls with a croon, and he slithers his own tongue back out again.
You hastily retreat, hands lifting.
“Woah, there! Okay, message received. Put that thing back where it came from, or so help me, I’ll turn this boat around.”
Your friend blows out a warm gust of air that just heightens the sticky feeling all over your body, and your arms drop as the mer retracts his appendage with rampant amusement. Clearly, your threat was too transparent to be taken with any modicum of seriousness. Not that you expected Eclipse to believe it for a second anyways. He knows just how much you’ve been aching to see him, and even without the words to verbalize it, he’s showing how much he’s missed you too. You haven’t missed the little display of the fins and frills around his head upon his arrival. They’ve been fluttering since you first spoke, a subtle indicator of your friend’s elated state.
Maybe it’s in a sign of good faith or repentance, but Eclipse gingerly rests a large hand palm-up on your boat right next to you. An offer. You consider the translucent webbing between the smooth surface of his digits like it houses a tremendously difficult question you don’t already know the answer to. A few moments you spend hemming and hawing in exaggeration, and to his credit, Eclipse waits patiently—hopefully—for you to hop on, the ocean churning noticeably from the swishing of his powerful tail.
You give a plaintive sigh.
“I suppose I can acquiesce this one request,” you say, snickering at the uncontrollable, excited thumping against the side of your boat from Eclipse’s fins.
He eagerly curls and uncurls his fingers as you step around the sprawled drape of the scarlet frills that adorn his wrist, planting your hands first on his palm and then crawling across until you’re seated in the middle. You’ve learned from experience that it’s best to remain off your feet when being lifted if you want to retain your balance. Eclipse will never let you fall and would almost certainly help you to remain standing if you wobbled, but sitting down for the little ride grants you a bit more stability.
With the utmost care, the mer hoists you out of your boat and over to him. He nuzzles you once more with a soft coo, and then he lowers into the water until only his head and the hand you rest upon aren’t submerged.
You smile up at him.
“Thanks, big guy, but I’m already wet, so I might as well wash this off.”
Eclipse churrs and sinks a little deeper so that the water just laps over his palm. You pat him in appreciation, and he curiously watches as you begin to cup the ocean in your hands and rinse your face and then scrub at your body.
It doesn’t take long to get to a somewhat reasonably clean state again, though you doubt anything in Eclipse’s saliva would be truly harmful to you. The pungent smell, however, might be downright criminal, and that’s saying something because you’ve been around fish for years. But at the end of the day, it’s worth it because it’s still part of your friend, and you wouldn’t change anything about him.
Once the sticky substance has washed away, you lean back on your hands, and Eclipse’s large fingers press protectively at your back. His contentment is visible in the shine of glowing yellow and the peaceful glaze of his languid movements. He floats in place next to your boat with the waves barely disturbing him. The magnitude of his size strikes you yet again despite how much time you’ve spent at his side all these years. Maybe the separation brought on by the storm afflicted your memory of his stature, but you don’t mind the awe that fills you at the leviathan or how small you suddenly feel in his grasp.
You’ve never been safer in the claws of a mer, and that will never fail to warm your heart.
Eclipse trills at the emotions shared through your bond, and with a melted expression, he draws you closer. You are gently deposited atop his chest, and once you’re sure of your footing, you approach his beaming maw. The mer meets you halfway, and when your arms embrace him as much as they can, he releases a slow breath that chases away any chill from the water.
Together, you stay like that in the quiet stillness of dawn, the first cracks of light just kissing the horizon. The world is waking up once more, and you have been given the best greeting of all. After days of restlessness and anxiety and longing, your mind is finally at ease. It’s a serenity that touches your soul, mirroring the same peace from your friend.
Sometimes, a shadow of a terrible memory graces your consciousness, and phantoms of ghastly yellow and purple snap at you. Those awful, living nightmares have grown less obtrusive as the months have passed, fading ever steadily with the more time you spend on the waves with Eclipse. You know you are safe now. There are some things that take more than reassurance to overcome, however, set off by triggers that you’re still learning to pinpoint, but with time and exposure to the sea that is a second home to you, the initial flinching and brief bursts of fright will diminish.
Eclipse’s presence has been grounding all the while. He’s stuck with you through every crest and trough, understanding your inner turmoil better than any explanation you could try to come up with. He’s felt your fear and pain and determined that it’s now his to bear as well if it means it will bring you comfort and recovery sooner. The memories are no less horrible for him too, and you occasionally catch a glimpse of his remembrance of prying apart serrated jaws and reaching for your frantic form.
It’s a shared burden between the two of you. You will see it through together.
A shiver that can’t be blamed on the breeze travels through your body.
Sensing the direction of your thoughts, Eclipse curls his webbed hand even more so around your comparatively smaller frame, like he’s letting you know that he won’t ever let anything take you away from him again. A quiet purr vibrates from his chest, and he nudges you with his cheek until you look up at him again. His scales are creased with worry, but you pet one of his claws to reassure him.
“I’m alright, big guy. I’ve got you here, don’t I?”
Better words couldn’t have been chosen as your leviathan chitters in agreement. The sound soothes the worries of your mind, chased by the fearsome predator who has become your protector. You enjoy the intimate moment with him and the heart-skipping way he stares at you leaning into his grasp.
But that’s all abruptly broken by a thunderous growl that shakes through your feet.
In an instant, Eclipse looks mightily embarrassed, and you flash a grin.
“Someone’s hungry,” you tease, tapping your foot to indicate the petulant thrum that had come from his stomach further down.
The mer shakes water off his frills like a dog, sniffing the air and frowning before his pupils constrict, and his head snaps downward and off to the side at the water. It would seem he’s already locked on to a potential prey. You wonder if he’s about to tear off in the direction of said prey, but Eclipse tips his head back over at you, frills twitching with anticipation. He then taps the tip of a finger at your stomach in question.
You do your best to keep your smile from twisting.
“Not quite a fan of eating raw fish, thanks. This one’s all you, buddy.”
Eclipse emits a distinct whine at your refusal, rays drooping.
“I’ll eat later, promise. It’s still early for breakfast anyways. But I guess I could always just take a chomp out of you if you want me to eat fish so bad, huh?”
Three rapid clacks of sharp teeth are your answer, Eclipse pretending to snap them at you instead like maybe he’ll take a nibble out of you, and you giggle at the fake threat. He squints at you, supposedly very intimidating, you’re sure. His fins flap against the surface of his water much like his tail, and the loud whoosh of air from his gills sounds like a heavy sigh.
“Adorable,” you remark, and Eclipse puffs, his ray-like frills expanding like an orange peacock. “Yes, yes, you’re very big and scary. Now go catch your breakfast, you oversized guppy.”
An aggrieved grumble from the mer shakes through your body, and Eclipse sinks into the deep, pausing long enough to make sure you’re treading water easily enough on your own once you’re submerged.
You give him a little wave, legs swishing beneath you, and a flash of warmth stirs in your chest in response from him.
The giant mer disappears from sight rather quickly, likely sensing the direction his prey has swam off to. He won’t be gone long. You’re confident in his hunting abilities, and the only times it takes awhile are when he’s feeling playful and turning it into a game.
Without the support of your friend to keep you afloat, you paddle over to your boat to conserve your energy. A quick climb up your ladder, and you’re aboard once more and perusing the still water-logged floor with a shake of your head. Your mild disapproval is countered by a sense of indignation within your core from the mer far below.
Not my fault.
Even when he’s focused on hunting, he’s always got to get his two cents in. You snort and step across the slick surface into your cabin.
While food isn’t exactly on your mind right now, you do find something special in sharing a meal together, so you decide to rummage through your kitchenette for a small snack. There are some granola bars you’ve stashed in a cabinet exactly for this reason, so after snagging one, tearing off the wrapper, and disposing the trash in the bin so you won’t have to worry about it later, you shuffle back outside.
The sun is still in its infancy, but the thin streams of light are already casting a new layer of warmth. The streaks of burnt orange remind you of your beloved mer, rippling across the darkly painted sky. Minutes trickle by with nothing but nature for miles, allowing your thoughts to meander. As you take in its beauty, you’re reminded of its resilience and how it will continue to exist long after you’ve passed. The sun will continue to rise and set; the waves will continue to crash and roll and traverse the world. It makes you wonder, head tipping up to admire the stars, what it will be like one day when your and Eclipse’s time comes to an end. There is assurance in that you will go together, bound so intrinsically as mer and human. Such an occurrence is far down in the future, barely conceivable when you have so much life left to live with Eclipse, but as you stand under the starlight’s ever watchful gaze, you muse quietly.
Will you trade a life on the water for an eternity in the stars? Will the galaxies become your new waves, the constellations your new islands? What will it be like to explore the great expanse that rivals even your tremendous ocean?
Your vision shuts to the ethereal light, and you feel the answer in your soul that returns from the leviathan himself.
Harmony. It will be harmony, entwined with you and him forever singing that sweet song that ties you in scarlet thread.
Smile warmer than the sleepy sun, you’re not at all surprised when you hear a splash and open your eyes to see your close friend next to your boat again, waiting patiently for you to emerge from being lost in thought. His tender love is palpable, resonating from deep within your chest and guiding you over to him. As you near, you notice the edge of a tail fin poking out of his maw, and a snicker escapes you.
“Breakfast was successful, I take it?”
Eclipse hums and then in a perfectly unnecessary act opens his mouth to show you just how big of a catch he got. His rows of teeth have expertly speared the swordfish, and while impressive, you know why he’s showing off.
You hold up a hand dismissively.
“Yeah, still not happening.” You wave your granola bar under Eclipse’s dissatisfied scrutiny when he seals his maw shut in suspicion. “I found something else to munch on instead. Extra nutritious. You want some?”
Eclipse hisses like you personally offended him, and you bite back a laugh as you break off a piece of your snack and toss it in your mouth. Last time you tried to feed him some of your “nasty human food,” he wheezed and spat out the microscopic morsel and then proceeded to drag his claws against his tongue like you’d terrorized his tastebuds. He’s so goofily dramatic when it comes to most of your meals and snacks that don’t involve seafood, and he plays it up extra just for you because you adore his theatrics. You know as much because you’d asked him once why he’d reacted that way, and he’d answered with a photographic memory of your face flushed from laughter and your arms clutching your stomach from a time not too long prior.
Needless to say, your cheeks had immediately turned hot yet again, that time for a different reason, and you’d tried and failed to brush off Eclipse’s endeared cooing at your fluster.
He’s such a rascal. Wily prankster of a mer. You more than cherish him.
Taking another bite of your snack, you lean against the railing while Eclipse begins to chew on his meal. You know that one fish won’t be enough to feed a mer his size, but it’ll at least be enough to stave off his hunger for a little bit. The warmth in your core tells you Eclipse isn’t eager to leave your side for longer than necessary. He’s just as intent on companionship as you are.
Swallowing the mouthful of granola, you say, “I brought my pan flute with me again. Maybe we can give your song another shot later today?”
A tremendous purr rumbles across the waves. At the same time, the contentment behind your sternum spikes, and you sigh happily.
“I think I’ve got the first part down,” you add. “It’s what follows after that I’m struggling with, so it’s a good thing I’ve got such a talented conductor to help me.”
Eclipse’s delight transforms to a small grumble with an undertone of disapproval. His tail whacks the water behind him, and the giant mer gives you a disbelieving, reprimanding look.
Talented yourself.
Not expecting that, you smile sheepishly and chuckle a little.
“Thanks. I don’t mean to make it sound like I’m downplaying my abilities. Although your song isn’t exactly made for human lungs, you know.”
Dark pupils roll.
Siren song, comes the dry rebuttal. Natural. Weak human lungs.
You blow a raspberry.
“I’ll have you know I’ve got rather strong lungs for a human! And I can hold air for a long while too, which is why I’m even able to keep up with those drawn-out notes of yours.”
By this point, Eclipse has finished swallowing the fish he caught, and the bumpy texture of his burgundy tongue flicks dangerously across his teeth. The air charges with his intrigued hum, and you can sense your mistake the second you catch the mischief in his stare. Orange and crimson fins flutter, and a colossal maw nears until it hovers inches in front of you.
You’re already taking a cautious step back when the thought flashes in your head, one that is not your own.
Let’s test it then, the susurrous taunt curls around your mind, snaking like a low voice against the shell of your ear, and the blur of an arm is too fast for you to dodge.
“Eclipse!” you shriek with a laugh as the leviathan gently but gleefully snatches you up from your boat and brings you back into the water.
Your meager granola bar is lost to the waves and fish, but it barely catches your notice as the smug mer yet again deposits you on his chest, sinking onto his back with almost-feline elegance. The frills surrounding his face fan out like a blood-orange sunflower as they float in the water. Eclipse’s lower arms begin to lightly pedal across the waves, circling but not straying you and him too far from your boat. With his other hands, he keeps them cupped around you, preventing you from slipping off or getting away.
You know what he wants, can read his intent in the quiver of anticipation rebounding from your core that sings with the desire to dive. But the large mer is waiting for your approval first, not wanting to take you under without checking in regardless of his former tease. The considerate patience chases away the tepid air and flushes your heart with something even hotter.
Your smile is small and appreciative.
“Of course, I don’t mind taking a swim with you. I’ve gotta prove my little human lungs can outlast yours, right?” You pat against his chest. “Show me what you’ve got, big guy.”
Sharp teeth glisten wetly, Eclipse giving a hearty chortle at your challenge. His translucent fins catch the sunlight just as it skips across the indigo waves and reaches you, creating speckles of white gold atop every crest. Eclipse waits for you to take a few deep breaths in preparation, your lungs filling with air until you give him a nod. With a sweet smile, the mer begins to tip backward, sinking headfirst underwater with his hand cupping you all the while as you take the plunge together.
The water is bitterly cold the moment it touches your skin, and you instinctively squeeze your eyes shut at first as the ocean swallows you whole. But you’ve nothing to worry about in the grasp of your friend who keeps you clutched to a warm chest, the beating of his heart strong under your form even with layers of muscle between you and it. The steady thrum is like a lullaby setting your mind at ease, and soon, the flash of nervousness at diving dissipates like it was never there to begin with.
A soft whisper of your name, wrapped in endless patience, coaxes you with a singular want. You feel a second arm slipping behind you, the first slipping lower, which is followed by a large palm spreading at your back and prickling at the strands of your floating hair, covering your entire frame with its size. In careful slowness, you dare to peek through just a crack despite the salty sting of the ocean. You want to see, just for a moment, and the second you do, you are so delighted you took the risk.
The brightness of the sun does not yet penetrate the surface of the deep, but it casts enough light to turn the ocean into an underwater paradise basked in violet hues.
Upside down, you and Eclipse float in the beautiful display of color that transitions from light to dark, the expanse above your head an incredibly rich sapphire. With every swish of his tail and flap of his frills, Eclipse creates a plume of bubbles that catch the thin light in this flipped world. Your legs curl tightly around his slick frame as much as possible, and a bountiful rumble erupts from your friend. He embraces you until there is no room left to spare, and your arms do their best to wrap around him as much as possible.
Golden eyes shine like pure light in the dim purple glow that is incrementally turning lavender while the sun climbs. Eclipse purrs greatly so that you can hear it even underwater. His heart pounds next to yours, a duet not unlike the song that the mer has sung for you since life was still so new to you and him. Age has not withered the exceptionality of it, but it has made you yearn for it all the more. You doubt you will ever stop longing to be close to Eclipse, and you can feel in your chest that he is much the same for you.
Suspended in place in the arms of your closest friend, you find breathing becomes meaningless. The separation that had kept you trapped on your small island and away from him is no more. Finally, you are together again, reunited under a fading starlit sky and within the pleasant rocking of a calm ocean. Home, at last.
Once your lungs begin to ache, your eyes slip shut, and your smile grows when Eclipse presses his to yours. You happily nuzzle him right back, content to just hold each other like this in the morning quiet where nothing and no one disturbs you. The graze of his frills tickles your cheeks while he keeps you close. You stroke the ones you can reach at the sides of his head, and your movement is mirrored by the light carding of a claw through your hair and along the base of your scalp. The intimacy of it threatens to bring tears behind your eyelids, but any and all drops are carried away by the ocean when your eyelashes flutter with your cautious squint.
Eclipse rubs his scaly cheek against yours for a quick, last nuzzle. Though you’d prefer to remain suspended upside-down like this beneath the waves with him, your friend has your preservation on the front of his mind, and he sweeps his tail in a powerful stroke that rights you and him and brings you back to the suncatcher waves.
A prism of droplets sprays across the surface when you’re brought back up to blessed air that your lungs greedily take back in. After a hasty brush of your hand, you blink away the remnants of saltwater. Your lips twitch.
“I think I definitely outlasted you this time, big guy,” you playfully boast.
Scarlet fins flutter in amusement. Eclipse snorts.
If you say so, sea star.
You hum and tap a finger indecisively, rubbing one of his sharper points against your thumb.
“Well, I might be persuaded otherwise. I guess we won’t know unless we try again, will we?” Your smile flirts on the edge of a grin, but what Eclipse returns with next is enough to stun you.
If that is what you wish. Wherever you want to go, the ghost of an answer dances along your consciousness, I will follow.
His amber gaze is flooded with a softness that makes your heart quicken while you’re choked by nothing related to the air you breathe.
It’s funny, you think, how the universe works. To think that you would find your lifelong partner, someone who fits with you like a puzzle piece, out among the waves. Like you were made for each other, regardless of species or place or form.
Here in the embrace of your soulmate, you’ve found everything you need.
Eclipse warbles in surprise when you lean up and press a kiss to his forehead. There, you linger, shutting your gaze to the caress of his silky frills and the salty tang of his home filling your nose. The arms holding you wrap tighter, a third and fourth finding purchase around any part of you that isn’t covered like he can’t touch enough of you.
Your drenched hair runs rivulets down your cheeks, hiding the evidence of your pure happiness that wells inside you and sneaks past wet eyelashes. A faint sound stirs from the leviathan, dipping into a low tune that makes you bury your face in his precious rays and quietly sing along with him his siren call.
You don’t end up ever really responding to his avowal, but you think Eclipse understands you all too well. Locked together like this, you greet the morning as a reunited pair while the memories of a troubled past float away on the seafoam to break on a distant shore.
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Who is Angus to Evrart?
full dialogue of the scene that line is from:
You - "Tell me about Titus Hardie and his crew."
Evrart Claire - "Oh, they are simply fine young men -- all seven of them! Exemplary Union members. Always working to advance their position in the local socialist-democratic movement. Core members."
Evrart Claire - "Old Theo used to run them, but things really *kicked into gear* when Titus took the reins and named the group after himself." He starts laughing. "Gotta love his initiative." You - "What more can you tell me? Who's second in command? Who's the most violent?"
Evrart Claire - "Harry, they're almost all of them *great* guys, born leaders. Whatever happened, I'm sure they only had the best interests of Revachol in mind."
Evrart Claire - "Work with them -- hell, interview them! But don't fight them. They really are just like you -- men who like beer, women, and some *order* on the streets."
Half Light - Separate one from the herd. You - "So let me ask you this... Which one of Hardie's boys is your least favourite?"
Evrart Claire - "Oh, that would definitely be Fat Angus. His feet smell from a city-block away and he's always having noisy stomach troubles. Horrible, revolting guy."
You - "So let's say something happens to Fat Angus... let's say a citizen's arrest..."
Evrart Claire - "You would die, Harry," he says, grinning. "You would die and in the process start a bloody and completely unnecessary war between the Débardeurs' Union and the Citizens Militia."
Evrart Claire - "Angus, his ever-growling stomach, and his smelly feet are all part of the Union. You have as much right to *arrest* him as he has to arrest you... "
Evrart Claire - "...actually less, because it's his home and his backyard. You are a guest here, Harry. Please remember that."
Evrart Claire - "Oh Harry..." He starts laughing. "This is getting real grim and there's no need for that. We are friends." He sits back and looks you in the eye with a wide smile.
i love thinking about this dialogue in comparison to when you get his real opinion on the hardies:
Evrart Claire - "Harry, I bugged her cabin. I bugged her whole boat. I had cameras surveying her boat. Hell I even wanted to bug that thermal cup, but my boys advised against it."
Savoir Faire - They must have done it while Joyce was busy questioning the locals. You - "So you've been listening to our conversations all the time?"
Evrart Claire - "Not me personally..." he stretches his arms like a discus thrower. "I had guys recording and processing this information for me." You - "The Hardie boys?"
Evrart Claire - "Hell no!" he exclaims. "They'd fuck it up. They can't do anything right. I mean my *real* boys. My special task force boys."
Kim Kitsuragi - "Where are these boys?"
Evrart Claire - "They sure as hell aren't hanging out in the open with beers in their hands for the cops to question." He bursts out laughing. "They're pros, Mr. Kitsuragi."
he doesn't like angus & doesn't even like or trust the hardies as it turns out! and yet i do 100% believe that he meant it when he said harry would die & it would start a war between the rcm and the union. not because he really cares about the hardies personally but because it would reaffirm the union's power/obviously they would have to respond to something like that. but finding knowing his true thoughts about the hardies casts an interesting light on this convo:
You - "The remaining mercenaries are organizing a tribunal to take on the Hardies."
Evrart Claire - "Tribunal?" He appears aghast. "That sounds *serious* Harry. We Union men should be *shitting* ourselves..." He rubs his chin and smiles suddenly: "I wish you hadn't told me that. I'm gonna lose *sleep* over this. Let's change the subject."
Empathy - He's clearly happy about the tribunal.
You - "You don't *seem* too worried about it." Evrart Claire - "Oh, Harry, what do I *really* think about the tribunal? You're trying to climb to second base with old Evrart before you've even courted him properly."
obviously he's happy about the tribunal because his end goal is to start a war with wild pines but there's a total lack of concern for the hardies both here where they come up specifically or for the union in general when discussing the prospect of a war with harry:
You - "Have you ever heard what two Giant Seraise Hornets can do to an entire colony of bees? They destroy it."
Evrart Claire - "I have. It's a great story, Harry." He nods. "Did you also know how the bee colony kills the giant hornet? They swarm and blanket it entirely, until it suffers a *massive heat stroke* and dies." Empathy - He crosses his hands, contently, thinking of the interior temperature of the wasp rising. Endurance - They cook it alive in its exoskeleton.
Evrart Claire - "Harry, we outnumber them fifteen hundred to one. And that's just Martinaise. With all the unions in Revachol -- and with public opinion on our side -- we can hold off two men. Or fifteen men. Or even fifty men."
Evrart Claire - "The more they send, the worse it's going to look for them. They made a *huge* mistake hiring those guys. *No one* likes foreign mercenaries. The leftists hate them, the fascists hate them, even the moralists think they're *in bad taste*."
is he really just that confident in the union? does he view the hardies specifically as expendable because he doesn't have much faith in them? or are his real thoughts more along the lines of "yeah people are probably gonna die but if that's what it takes then so be it"? we already know he's willing to kill if need be but i'd imagine he'd view tiphaine holly (an ineffective leader who's his direct opponent) differently from the members of the union he's supposed to be looking out for... we can never get his opinion on the tribunal after it happens (screams cries throws up) but i could see him being overall satisfied with the outcome.
Evrart Claire - "What was always going to happen. We take the harbour and she fucks off to Ozonne, uncorks a bottle of wine, calls her partners and says they need to distance themselves from this nasty business before the big shit spinner splashes everyone."
Evrart Claire - "Only difference is the Union doesn't have to lose 2,000 men to machine gun fire."
like, 3-7 deaths compared to 2,000? anyways this is so much more than the question you actually asked i just love to think about my fucked up little guy.
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you seem to have a good read on HQ and your takes are great, so i have a question...and if you'd rather not go there, please ignore this! but i see oikawa get called "arrogant" quite often and i'm curious, would you say he is? what is it that makes people think that?
imo he has a plenty of flaws, but i truly don't think arrogance is one of them. self-centered, sure, but not arrogant i think. i'm open to being wrong, i'm just legit so confused by that particular criticism, it makes me doubting my reading comprehension. i feel like that one post that's like "free my man, he didn't do that. he did a lot of other stuff tho" LOL. if you do answer this, then thanks for your time!
oh, dear anon. this is a very very big question and i'm honored you think i am capable of providing an answer that does it justice!! i don't consider myself an oikawa expert by far, but i'll do my best because he's still very beloved to me, and i hope whatever i say helps!
(but also - maybe take what i say with a grain of salt LMAO)
anyways, to get the main point out of the way: i completely agree that oikawa isn't arrogant! i actually haven't seen any commentary about that myself (bless!!!), so i can't say for sure why some people might think that, but my guess is that they think his pridefulness = arrogance — they think that the confidence he has in himself and seijoh contributes nothing to their actual power and is utterly meaningless if they don't win, especially in the face of ushijima. which, like, come on. what kind of captain would he be if he wasn't confident in himself and his teammates? is he supposed to tell them that they're going to lose??? is he supposed to discourage their hard work and effort???
or maybe it's because oikawa acts like he's all that, but doesn't have anything to show for it. who does he think he is? what does he think his pride is worth? what right does he have to go around making grand declarations when he has nothing to his name?
(which isn't entirely true, either, but we'll get into that, promise.)
now, do i think that he can, occasionally, be flippant, shallow, and/or petty? yeah, sure. he's got one hell of a personality about it. even iwaizumi says as much. oikawa is great at being a little shit. it's one of my favorite things about him!
but is oikawa genuinely arrogant, or self-centered? well . . . i don't think so.
see, here's the thing about oikawa: he knows he's good, but he doesn't think he's good enough. i think it'd be easiest to really explain what that meant if we broke this down into two separate parts, so let's give it a go, shall we?
(buckle up, friends, because it's about to get LONG. also: TIMESKIP SPOILERS!! and there's a tldr at the start of the tags because. WOW.)
so, first things first: if people are calling oikawa arrogant, then i'm like 99% sure that they don't actually know what the word "arrogant" means.
"arrogant" is used to describe someone full of themselves. it's used to describe someone conceited and pompous. it's used to describe someone so assured of and invested in their self-importance that they don't care for other people, and if it seems like they do, then it's usually wildly off the mark and still serves to inflate their own egos.
oikawa has never once been like that. he's been pretty much the exact opposite, in fact.
and yeah, sure, by his third year of high school, he knows he's good at volleyball, and that's fine! it's perfectly all right to claim you're good at something if you have the skills/experience to back it up. confidence is healthy as long as it isn't in overabundance, and we actually see a lot of this throughout the series!
(not to mention that this was where ushijima fell short. he was overflowing with confidence. he did not believe, for even a single second, that hinata shouyou and his meager, scrappy little flock of crows could beat him.
but oikawa? he knew. he knew what it looked like to make something bloom.)
the key to oikawa's confidence that made him better was that he could pinpoint others' strengths and weaknesses just as well as he could with his own. and (bear with me, please, i might get kind of boring here bc it's nothing that hasn't been said in the manga before) i don't mean it in the way we see the coaches or more analytical players do, as observations to be taken advantage of by everyone else; i mean that in the sense of how vital it is to his position as a setter. that was always the biggest difference between oikawa and kageyama: no matter how much more raw talent kageyama had, no matter how much better oikawa believed him to be, kageyama, especially in the beginning, struggled to do what oikawa could with a team. kageyama struggled to bring out the best in each player. and it wasn't because he didn't know how -- oikawa freely admitted that kageyama had the skill for it, that kageyama, once he got his shit together, could win against him -- it was because kageyama didn't have that same confidence in himself.
(not until much later, anyways. but that's another story, for another time.)
so, oikawa's confident. he knows he's good. he can bring out the best in each player. he's got a killer serve (and a killer smile!), a mind for tactics that borders on machievallianism, and cherishes the trust he is given like it's something precious. his coaches let him lead without leaning on them. his team has the utmost respect and admiration for him. he has a reputation. from karasuno to shiratorizawa to the whole of miyagi -- there is not a single character who knows oikawa tooru and would believe that he is, in any way, bad at volleyball.
but it's not enough. despite all of that, oikawa still doesn't think he's good enough. and that, friends, brings us to the second point.
oikawa tooru is nothing if not passionate.
so were the others, of course. kageyama kept going after his grandfather's death. hinata kept going while being a nobody from nowhere with no one to back him up. atsumu kept going while osamu didn't. it's not even about just those who went pro -- kenma, kuroo, noya, and everyone else found things that they were passionate about and kept going with it. the entire story revolves around loving what you do and trying to keep that love alive, and, sometimes, that can be really, really difficult when it seems like it doesn't love you back.
oikawa was so insecure over kageyama to the point where he nearly decked the poor kid. oikawa got crushed by ushijima-- who kept telling him that his team was not good enough, that his choices were not good enough, that there was nothing good enough to be proud of -- for years in a row. oikawa was taught that there would always be someone better than him no matter how skilled he was, but if he let that stop him then he didn't fucking belong on the court in the first place.
oikawa tooru is intimately acquainted with not being good enough, but he keeps trying to be. he keeps going. he tries to keep the love alive even if he's not loved back. he pushes and practices and takes a plane far from home to become even better. even if he doesn't have the skill, even if he doesn't have the talent, even if he doesn't have the love -- he still has his pride. and what does that mean, in the end? how far does that take him?
in the end, oikawa tooru walks across a world stage and sees people who believed in him on the other side and calls it a family reunion. in the end, he gets to play the volleyball that reminds him of why he loves it and how it gives him so much love back. in the end, his pride is unyielding and unbreakable, a product of the forge. he molded it with his own two hands. he will not let it falter so easily.
arrogance would not have taken oikawa tooru this far. i hope this has proven that he is anything but.
remember: instinct is something you polish. talent is something you make bloom. and never, ever let anyone else tell you what your pride is worth.
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