#no real reconciliation no real closure | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cegiel-athelia · 3 months

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Snowfall Absolution

(Sequel to Zayne’s Master of Fate Myth)

In all honesty, the storyline broke me. It was not tragic like Foreseer’s myth, but it was by its own standing still devastating. I was crying at the end of it.

Writing this piece required some degree of research into the Chinese practices and culture. It was interesting and I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Admittedly, I am somewhat glad that the developers left the myth open-ended because that meant we could form our own ending.

Hence, my need for closure has made me write this unofficial sequel.

There are some Destiny Cafe interactions which I felt alluded to a reunion and I have incorporated those lines in the story below.

Genre: Angst, Reconciliation, Fluff, Smut (sweet vanilla - ‘cause I cannot, at this time, imagine Master Zayne in any other manner, at least not when it is their first time together)

[An extended version of this fanfiction (involving ‘boom shakalaka’) is only found here on my Tumblr]

Friends from Insta and/or TikTok, welcome to Tumblr. Do drop me a note to say hi and/or share your thoughts on the story. :) I hope this helps to ease the heartbreak of the myth.

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Sleep-ladened eyelids fluttered open as consciousness gradually returned to you and the stiffness in your body eased. The daylight which poured through the long oriental windows splayed across your face, making you shield your eyes behind your forearm. Your eyelids were still heavy from sleep and your temple throbbed as though you had been asleep for far too long.

Laying in bed still in a daze, you watched through your mind’s eye as frenzied visions raced through it. Visions that that felt so real, so alive, that it blurred the line between dream and reality.

In your dream, you had been searching for him for so long that you had almost given up any hope of ever seeing him again. Until one night, you found him. His face lacked the warmth you expected from him, but it was the fact that he had forgotten about you which broke your heart.

On hindsight, you could hardly say that your visions were dreams, but rather, a collection of nightmares, which massively snowballed with you caught in its path, never able to escape from it.

“Snowball…” you muttered tiredly, voice fresh from slumber. The distant melody of the wind chime seemed to grow louder as your mind focused on it. ‘Wind chime… A wind chime?’ Your eyelids flew open and your irises narrowed with sudden realisation. “Zayne!”

Never have you ever sprung out of bed so quickly, but you soon found yourself on the floor, the wooden boards creaked under your weight. You felt a pull in both your calf muscles as if you had not used your legs for months. Your breathing strained as though your lungs had not been used to its fullest capacity. Pushing these oddities from your mind, you strove to gather yourself.

Your eyes scanned the room, coming finally to rest on the long bamboo-printed drapes which swayed slowly side to side, assuring yourself that you are indeed remembering correctly. This is his abode.

‘But what if he isn’t there? What if I am still alone?’ Doubt filled your thoughts as you fought against every stubborn muscle to pick yourself up, ignoring the strain in your legs as you raced towards the doors, forcefully sliding them open.

A flash of sunlight blinded you, causing you to squint involuntarily and hide your eyes behind your fingers. Still, you persevered. You stumbled clumsily over lush green grass, quickening your pace once your eyes had adjusted to the light, heading towards the one place you knew you could find him.

The steady thumps of your feet against the crushing grass carried you as you neared the location where Sacred Tree stood. From where you were, you could already see the top of the tree. Its white flowers outshining the green leaves, painting the tree a pure white— like snow, except that it was warm.

You halted your approach when a tall figure standing under the tree came into view. You assimilated this person from afar. The man wore the very familiar navy blue and white garb; its long sleeves gracefully cascaded by each side of his elegant robe. His long black hair which was held together with a single embossed sliver hair clip swayed captivatingly in the wind and in his hand, was a jiǎndú— a bamboo scroll which he was immersed in. He was as magnificent as you remembered him to be.

Your heart pounded deafeningly in your ears. It was all that you could hear. He was so close. The need to touch him was palpable. You needed to know that he is real and not simply a figment of your imagination or dream. Your eyes stung from tears that rolled down your cheeks.

Before you realised, your feet had lifted off the ground as you sped towards him with all the strength you could muster, colliding hard into his back. The scroll which he was reading thudded softly onto the grass.

You did not care for the shocked gasp he exhaled on impact. All you wanted and needed was to hold him. Your arms wrapped around his torso so tightly that it would take two strong men to free him. You held him as though he would disappear at any moment. Gripping onto his robe, you desperately wanted to appreciate the tangibility of his person. ‘He’s real!’ You internally repeated this to yourself. With your face buried firmly into his back, you soaked in the warmth of his frame.

His body relaxed in your hold and a familiar sigh drifted to your ears. You had never thought that you would feel this elated to hear him sigh.

“You’re as restless as ever.” He murmured in the low tenor that you missed so dearly as his hands came to rest over yours.

Your emotions completely enveloped you as you sobbed brokenly, face still buried in his strong back. As much as you hated for him to see you in this state, it was beyond your control. It was telling from the dull pain in your chest that your broken heart was aching; and it was aching for only him. The revelation overwhelmed you. It was not that you had simply enjoyed his company during the time you spent together or that you missed him in that strange, vivid period of dreaming. You love him.

Gently prying your hands away from his waist, he manoeuvred around to regard you. His arms reached around to pull you into an embrace. You lingered long in his hold, breathing in the sweet floral scent on his clothes and feeling a sense of calm washing over your being as your wayward emotions progressively steadied.

Withdrawing just slightly from him, you finally looked upon his face only to find him returning your gaze. The expression that he wore was soft, almost endearing. You found yourself wholly mesmerised by the emerald of his eyes.

“Zayne…” His name rolled from your lips.

His palms cupped your face; thumbs stroking away the residual tears staining your cheeks. “I thought you’d come when the snow stopped.” He chuckled softly. “It is now midway through Spring.”

A smiled crept onto your features, but you made sure to let out an annoyed click of your tongue at his teasing and brought your fists to rest at your hips. “Don’t be mean!”

Now free from your hold, the master proceeded to retrieve the fallen scroll and made his way to the Sacred Tree, settling comfortably under it. With a tiny tilt of his head, he beckoned you to join him as he resumed reading the scroll. Accepting the invitation, you sat quietly next to him. Your mind wandered to how puzzling it was that you were missing him so much, when all of it was merely a bad dream.

You rested your head lightly on his shoulder, appreciating his presence now more than ever. Simply that he did not react adversely to you, comforted you.

“Zayne?” You called out quietly.

Not averting his attention from the scroll, he answered, “hmm?”

You hesitated a moment before speaking. “I had a really bad dream. I dreamt that you and Bai left me in the mountain while I was asleep. I was reminded what it felt like to be alone...”

Zayne remained silent.

“When I awoke, my power was gone. You had left me a snow-covered umbrella, but it broke in the fourth year. Thereafter, people around me began acting strangely as if…” Your voice trailed off as you painfully recollected the dream. “As if I was a monster— like in the past. Except that, I was nowhere near a safe place and I survived by running from town to town.”

“I pursued tavern-gossips of a travelling old mage and it led me finally to the temple of Si-Ming..” Lifting your head off his shoulder, you leaned in to peer at Zayne whose eyes remained affixed on the scroll, but his gaze appeared distant.

“In the dark of the night on the tenth calendar year, I thought I saw you, or an apparition of you.” You braced yourself as the dream grew darker. “I recall feeling happy believing that I had finally found you after so many years, but when I called your name, you attacked me instead. Without my power, I couldn’t defend myself.”

Your fingers fidgeted with the tassel of his woven wrist bracelet, the same one you had chosen for him at the village during the day of the Nuoji— the Spring Sacrificial Ceremony.

“The last thing I remember was the cold ice creeping up from my feet, swallowing me whole. I was certain I was going to die by your hands…”

Allowing yourself engage in the emotions that you felt, you said half-teasingly, “And to think that all those years, only thoughts of you consumed me! It was those thoughts alone that kept me going. I had even bought you a pouch of those forever blooming flowers, called Jasmines, which I knew you’d love in case I found you at the temple.”

Zayne continued to keep mum as he watched your fingers twine and untwine his bracelet. You had expected him to at least smirk at your last line and deny any involvement since it was only a dream, but he only remained quiet with eyebrows furrowed.

You caught the momentary flitting of his gaze to the tiny white and green pouch sitting on the table. A feeling of déjà vu washed over you as a memory of a merchant placing a similar coloured pouch in your palms replayed itself. Your mind was reeling. You saw another vision of the pouch falling onto the temple’s cobblestones when you had dodged an attack by the Zayne in your dreams.

It was then that realisation dawned on you and a heavy weight pulled on your heart.

“Zayne.. Please, tell me that it was all a bad dream.” Your voice left you more brokenly than you expected.

He sighed, “I cannot,” as he took the pouch and poured its contents onto his open hand. Little white flowers coated in ice glistened under the sunlight, refracting a myriad of colours around you. He had cryonically preserved them to last forever for reasons that were best known only to himself. However, the beauty of the flowers was lost in that moment as your mind struggled to cope with the disbelief, waiting for him to explain.

“I did what I must to protect you.” He was always one of few words and this time was no different. Zayne returned the jasmines into the pouch and set it back on the table preciously.

Your gaze travelled from the pouch to stare blankly at the grass and your fingers grasp tightly onto the hem of your skirt, afraid to hear the answer to your next question. “…How long has it been, Zayne?”

“A century.” Nonchalantly, he leaned forward to lift the clay teapot. The fragrant notes of the pu’er cha permeated the air as tea streamed into the teacup.

“I’ve been asleep for a hundred years?!” You exclaimed in shock, placing your palms on the ground before you and leaning in to check his expression to ascertain if he was joking.

The master merely shrugged, while sipping from the earthen teacup. “Well, you did sleep for longer than I had anticipated. It is midway through Spring.”

Your mouth was agape. A joke at this time did not feel appropriate. You rolled your eyes at his bone dry humour and puffed out your cheeks in a pout.

With a chuckle, he returned the tiny teacup to the table and then, reached to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, while wearing an expression that was gentle and kind. It was impossible to be angry with Zayne.

You scooted to sit in the space between his legs. His green eyes followed your every movement. “Zayne..” you returned his gaze and gingerly, placed a palm on his cheek. With utmost seriousness, you revealed all that you were keeping in your heart, “please, don’t ever leave me again. At least, not for my sake, but only for your own, if you must.”

A gentle smile graced the lips of the Master of Fate as he grabbed you into an embrace. His chin rested atop your hair as his voice resounded clearly inside your mind, “Then I will never leave you. Not even if fate wills it.”

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Your fingertips traced over the finely woven material of his robe as you basked in his embrace, resting your head against his broad chest. His heart was resonating a steady and consistent beat in your ear. The serenity of his presence and that of the Sacred Tree made all of this feel so surreal that you hoped that you were not actually dreaming. A hundred years was way more than enough.

Zayne felt the slight change in your aura when doubt started to fill you and he released you from his embrace to gaze upon you.

He was extraordinarily handsome, even more so when he wore this kind expression. It was hard to not be completely mesmerised by him. Your focus trailed from his eyes to his lips which was a mere distance away such that his gentle breaths tickled your nose. A whisper of his name glided from your lips as your fingers grasped onto the material of his cloak. You yearned to close the gap and you wondered if he felt the same since he did not seek to put distance between your bodies. You pressed your palm to gently cup the side of his jaw and your lashes hooded your eyes. The tip of your nose brushed against his, hoping that this deity would oblige and grant your wish.

His familiar floral scent wafted into your nose with the breeze. It was almost as if time had stopped around the both of you. Then, you thought your heart had ceased when his eyelids lowered and his lips pressed lightly onto yours. You wound your arms round his neck and your chest pressed flushed against his unyielding one. The kisses grew hungrier with each moment that passed, both of you revelling in the newness of your shared feelings.

So consumed you were with his decadent blessings that you next found yourself being laid gently onto the grass. He barely broke away from your lips as he did. His long ponytail fell over his shoulders and onto the side of you. His robe cascaded on both sides of you, almost hiding you within it.

Unlike his icy demeanour, his body, which pressed against yours was warm like the gentle sunlight, melting away your worries. His kisses were fervent and needy, wanting nothing more than to taste every inch of you. You moaned into his mouth, begging him to bestow you with more of him. Your fingers tangled themselves in his silky long hair. Your entirety ached for him especially when a pressure came into contact with your secret place. The evident bulge at his crotch rolled against your burning center, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine which caused your body to arch gracefully into his.

Zayne hissed at the buck of your hips, head tilting back and eyes squeezing shut. He was such a gorgeous man. He groaned almost ferally as he regained himself, green eyes now tinted a dark shade of desire, until a sudden look of realisation gripped him and he attempted to recoil.

“Don’t..” you held on. Thumb caressing his well-defined cheekbone. “Don’t stop.”

A pink hue glowed across his cheeks to his ears. “Is this okay? I don’t want to hurt you.”

The nuance in his words made your stomach coil and your femininity pool in anticipation. “You won’t.” You leaned up to take his lips again, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, guiding him back to you.

He took you desperately. Crashing his lips into yours, he slipped his tongue past your teeth to meet yours in a passionate dance. His gloved fingers caressed tiny circles on your neck. Your kisses continued growing more heated and the groans from the both of you reverberated in the surroundings. You fumbled clumsily at the waistband of his pants from your position, that is, underneath him. It was clear what you wanted, needed. Zayne revelled in observing you attempt to undress his lower half, thoughtfully raising his body just slightly to give your hands space to work.

Finally managing to free his aching manhood from the confines of his pants, your heart momentarily faltered. Zayne’s earlier cause for concern was legitimate. He was after all, magnificently yet frighteningly well-endowed.

He was pleased with your apprehension and rewarded you by angling down to kiss you. You felt his heated, engorged tip graze against your folds, moving ever so slightly in time with his kisses, sliding back and forth only at the outskirts, and coating himself slick in the process. The deliberate loitering at your entrance and the sensual motions against your swollen peak was torturously maddening. You cried into his lips from the sensitivity; your hooded eyes pleading for more. With an inhale, he slid his tongue into your mouth and eased his tip into you inch by inch as your walls fought to snuffle out the intruding thickness.

Your body worked on overdrive just trying to accommodate his endowment. His girth so thick that it filled every inch of you. You cried out to him, fingers desperately gripping onto his biceps for dear life. Your constraints clinged onto every part of him, successfully ripping a groan from his throat when he finally buried all of himself deep inside you.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, guiding him impossibly deeper into your depths as your eyelids grew far too heavy for you to keep them opened. His elbows rested on the grass at either side of your shoulder as he set a slow and steady rhythm.

His face was buried in the crux of your neck, lips hovering at your throat, every one of his exhalations burned against your skin. He then closed his mouth over your hastening pulse, causing your insides to clamp hard and elicited from you a whimper which you failed to contain.

“Am I hurting you?” His voice was evidently unsteady as he battled against his desire to ravage you without care.

You shook your head, looked into his eyes, and said, “no, I want to experience everything with you.. and about you..”

Zayne throbbed within you at your words, and released a growl into your nape as his hips surged forward in an uncontrolled thrust. You gasped beneath him. Fingers grasping onto his garment with one hand and the other pressing its palm to the back of his head, the metal hair ornament underneath cold against your touch.

Your body rocked in sync with his now surging tempo. His corybantic pants at the side of your ear was telling of how close he was to relenting to his gratification. His length plowed with utmost precision into you, extending deeper and hitting harder, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut from pleasurable pain. The curve of his shaft so perfect that each stroke into you rubbed against the one tender spot that made the blood rush to your head. A burning coil in your insides already accumulating dangerously. It took all of you to keep your mind from reeling.

“Zayne, I’m close.” You rasped between breaths, the glorious sensations making it difficult to think of anything else but the impending rapture.

“So am I.” His words faltered as he slipped his arms between your back and the ground to scoop you up to straddle him, your thighs above his. The deepened contact of his manhood against your cervix was sending mind-blowing jolts with each thrust. Your back arched onerously as he brought you closer and closer. You were losing control of your own body, your insides clamping down erratically as you neared your release.

He groaned at the tightening of your walls around his shaft. His hips bucking upwards to plunge himself into you with urgency while burying his flushed face in your nape to muffle his delicious moans.

The tremendous pleasure he was building inside you was threatening to burst forth at any given moment. Every stoke drove you closer and closer to the edge. His name rolled repeatedly from your lips; one more urgent and pleading than the last, as you could no longer form coherent thought. All that was important and needed now, is him and only all of him.

Then, a blinding burst of white light flashed behind your eyelids and pleasure overtook you, completely invading your senses. Your fingers gripped desperately onto anything it could hold onto. Your body arched involuntarily into him, trembling with each jolt of euphoria.

Zayne gasped as your release overpowered your control of your movements, your walls pulsating fiercely against his length. A wave of tingling pleasure rippled under his skin as he struggled to withstand the overwhelming sensations in futility. As a last spurt, he bucked upwards unbridled and unrestrained, allowing himself to finally succumb to his climax with a strangled grunt. He shut his eyes tight and emptied rope after rope into your vacant space.

Shuddering as he came down from his high, he collapsed, laying his ear on your heaving chest. Both your breathing laboured and uneven.

“Are you alright?” He asked shakily, gathering enough strength to gaze into your eyes.

“Mm.” you nodded, giving him a faint smile. Your fingers brushed the misplaced strands of his black hair back to where they belonged. “I love you, Zayne.”

His jade orbs sparkled in the light as he chuckled softly. “Is that so?” Pressing his lips to your forehead, he whispered, “I’ve loved you before I met you. Hold me and never let go.”

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laughhardrunfastbekindsblog · 2 months

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I've been reflecting recently on why I love Bad Batch SOOOO much (no, seriously, I've been obsessed since the show first started airing and my obsession isn't fading anytime soon) while also still having some issues with the finale. And I think it's because the story reminds me so much of my own family. (Note: my ramblings in this post do get personal.)

I loved Clone Force 99 from the moment they were introduced in The Clone Wars. A band of clone misfits who are instantly recognized as different but also are close to each other and work together seamlessly with plenty of banter? Give me more! The amazingly resilient Echo is brought back and of course joins them? YES!!! So when it was announced that the Bad Batch would be getting their own show, I was thrilled! Yay for more crazy sibling shenanigans!

And then season 1 happened, with the squad almost immediately fracturing amidst all the changes occurring with the rise of the Empire. Ooof, hello reality.

I grew up in a large family with lots of siblings. We were all super close (and kinda crazy 😂) growing up; as we've become adults, however, personality differences have led some of my siblings to stop talking to each other which then bled over into them not talking to anyone else in the family. Not gonna lie, the past few years have been really hard, trying to figure out how best to navigate things so as to not push any of my siblings away but also give them their space.

Needless to say, I saw my family reflected in the Bad Batch. The Bad Batch were so close for so long, and then started falling apart. When Crosshair not only wouldn't go with his family in the season 1 finale but also seemed to be rejecting Hunter's statement that they could pursue different paths without being enemies, my heart broke even more. I know it will be a long time - if ever - that my own family members all reconcile with each other, so I really wanted this little clone family, at least, to get that chance. (Living out my hopes and dreams in fiction, I guess?)

Season 2 continued the season 1 trend of showing us both sides in such a sympathetic and nuanced way. I like to try keeping an open mind and seeing a situation from different angles/POV, both in real life and with fictional stories; so I think a big part of the reason why I adore this show is because it gave us the opportunity to consider both the main squad's AND Crosshair's perspectives, which honestly was a great exercise for me over the past few years in keeping an open mind regarding my own siblings' experiences and opinions (even if I don't always agree with them). And I was still holding out hope that this little clone family would have a chance to reconcile and be whole again.

And then Tech fell.

I'm crying right now just thinking about it.

(Tech was my favorite OG CF99 member since the moment he first stepped on screen, so his death would have been excruciatingly painful regardless; but the fact that he apparently died before the family could be fully reconciled... Well, I already know such a scenario - someone dying before reconciliation - is sadly possible with my own family, but having it happen to this fictional family just hit WAY too close to home, and I would have been equally devastated about this if any other Bad Batcher had died.)

Going into season 3, I knew there was a chance Tech wouldn't come back, much as I wanted him to. I LOVED watching Crosshair build a relationship with Omega, rejoin the family and reconcile with his other brothers, but... Tech is his brother too! With each passing episode, it was a struggle between hoping Tech would come back so the family would actually get their chance to be whole again, while also looking for any closure, any indication that Tech's memory and legacy would be acknowledged and honored by all the siblings he'd sacrificed himself for. I wanted Tech to be alive to get his own happy ending for his own sake, but if a comeback wasn't happening I wanted his life and sacrifice to clearly serve as an influence and motivation for his family. And for his siblings' sake (ESPECIALLY Crosshair's), if Tech was really dead and there wasn't going to be a full reunion, at least let the whole family heal from the loss, at least let the family honor the brother who gave everything to give them a chance to reunite.

The finale concluded, and I realized we got neither: there had been no full family reunion, and there had been no real closure/healing for the family regarding Tech's sacrifice either. (And I don't think it's at all unreasonable to have assumed the show would give us one or the other.)

Look, I'm one of those people who walked into Rogue One assuming it would have a happy ending. (Oh, those days when I was so young and naive...) So let me tell you, that ending traumatized me almost as badly as the ending of ASM2.

But, while other tragic/bittersweet endings have shaken me, it was the Bad Batch finale that literally left me feeling physically ill for days afterwards. Like, I was so relieved that everyone else lived? But it was so strange to be told it was a "happy ending" when, out of the entire family, only Omega kinda sorta maybe (if you squint) had a moment to honor their fallen brother? The family goes through all that trauma and loss and we end the show without actually resolving it, without the family actually healing? Tech's sacrifice made the Batch's eventual retirement possible, and the show won't even just say it? And to add insult to injury, after an entire season with the narrative teasing the possibility of Tech still being alive with CX2 being the forerunning explanation for it, it's all "well, we're still not going to provide any real closure on this plot point, but aren't you glad you can maybe assume Tech ISN'T CX2 since Hunter ran that sucker through without blinking an eye? Look, happy ending!"

I'm still stuck in "season 1" with my own family, so watching this story play out and ultimately conclude with this fictional family not getting full closure regarding one of their own siblings who had never been anything but supportive of all of them was... unsatisfying, to say the least. I LOVE that the clones, who were created by Palpatine to be discarded, managed to (unknowingly) strike a significant blow against Palpatine's plans. I LOVE that Omega and some of the other clones were able to choose to live peacefully on Pabu. I LOVE that Crosshair came back to his family. Still, I will never get over how Tech was handled - both the character himself and the characters he was closest to.

And I think this is part of the reason why I really hope the Bad Batch's on-screen appearances aren't completely over yet - and why, even without factoring in all the narrative ambiguity in season 3, I'm still rooting for Tech to return. Tech himself definitely deserved better, and his family deserved better too.

So there's my long-winded explanation for why there's not a single day that goes by that I don't think about this show 😅

#the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #personal musings #tbb hunter #tbb tech #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb omega #tech lives #welcome to a long winded reflection post #hope you enjoyed your stay

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baejax-the-great · 30 days

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Screwdriver?? 👀👀

Would you believe me if I told you that "Screwdriver Real" was actually not the real, newest version? Anyway, heart attack over, found the version with words in it. Here's the start of next chapter, which I will probably post in two weeks or maybe 11 months:

Zagreus is everywhere.

Thanatos doesn’t know if he’d feel better or worse if he thought Zagreus was purposefully following him. If he were, it would show a kind of dedication Thanatos doesn’t believe Zagreus has in him. He’d be kind of impressed. It would demonstrate that maybe Zagreus has changed these past years, and maybe even for the better.

It would also be creepy as hell.

He’s pretty sure it’s all accidental, though, which is Zagreus all over. The gym thing being closest, cheapest, and least noxious is true, and Zagreus appears to be there at a different time each day. Zagreus being a barista also kind of fits with the whole drop-out-and-never-put-down-roots thing. He never sees him at the library, which would probably be the best place to ambush Thanatos in that it would be the least convenient for Thanatos to get up and leave. And most likely, he doesn’t know Thanatos can see him smoking from the roof of his building across the street.

This is probably the worst thing. Thanatos has taken to waiting to see if Zagreus will come out, gazing at the dark roof rather than at the stars he can’t see, and if he sees a little red glow spark up, he kicks the brick he uses as a doorstop out of the way and stomps downstairs again.

It’s idiotic.

Even when Zagreus isn’t there, Thanatos is still thinking about the possibility of him appearing, so he might as well be there, ruining his evening and his peace. He’s giving him too much room in his mind.

It’s also ruining his studying. It’s the bar exam. His entire life should be studying to the exclusion of everything else except for eating, working out, and taking care of Morte. But he finds himself zoning out at the library, lifting his head every time the door to his area opens, wondering what Zagreus is up to and feeling annoyed that he hasn’t somehow shown up in the library, because he probably needs to study. Study what? Thanatos doesn’t know, but given that Zagreus is apparently a barista now, studying couldn’t hurt his job prospects.

All that anger and hurt that took years to swallow down are all vomiting out of him in every direction. He snaps at his mother on the phone. He was rude to the cashier who gave him his rice bowl for lunch, too busy looking over his shoulder to make sure Zagreus wouldn’t show up, and he sheepishly tripled his tip to make up for it. Every shower has become a litigation of the past, an argument against his tiled walls about every fucked-up aspect of Zagreus ghosting him the way he did.

He thinks, “And another thing!” about eight times day.

It truly becomes worrying when his shower wall starts arguing some solid points back at him. Like how if he were truly over everything as he has told himself repeatedly for a week, that he would not still be arguing with his shower. Or how he’ll never get closure if he doesn’t find out what happened. And how it would probably hurt Zagreus more to hear him out and make him think there’s a chance of reconciliation before Thanatos ghosts him and ignores him forever. And how maybe if he said every mean thing he wanted to say to Zagreus instead of to a wall, he could actually get back to focusing on his exam.

So that settles it. He has to talk to Zagreus. In order to pass the bar exam.

#thanzag #hades game

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thyandrawrites · 24 days

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not to prolong the subject but to me canon Dabi's chara is almost as incomprehensible as Hawks' (tho not as f up as Hawks. what hori did to him was unforgivable). like hori didn't really give Dabi much of anything outside his family's issues and anger. he is a threedimensional character but at the same time i can't say much about him. (sorry for bad english i think)

Nah it's fine, I get where you're coming from.

(Cw for salt and manga spoilers about the ending)

Post reveal Dabi lost a lot of his tridimensionality starting from the flashbacks of his childhood, and it's pretty clear imo that Horikoshi only wrote it that way to set up Enji and Shouto's arcs in the final battle. Much like Hawks, I feel like Dabi too at some point became more of a plot device than a real character. I mean, people will disagree and that's fine bc it's just my opinion, but... While he does retain his personality and beliefs until the end (unlike Hawks), he doesn't have anything else going on except for his feelings towards his family, which... What a waste of potential, especially after hyping up the bonds between him and the league. It went all down the drain as Enji hijacked the plot and all the spotlight.

What confirms that by the end of the series Dabi/Touya stops being his own character whenever something he does can't circle back to Enji Enji Enji... Is that Horikoshi didn't even bother confirming whether Touya lived or died after Enji said his piece. Like, he stopped mattering in the eyes of the narrative, and (worse even) in the eyes of the same family that supposedly had reunited to save him. Even Touya's last scene & reconciliation with his family ended up being just an excuse for Enji to monologue about his man-pain rather than closure on the Touya plotline. We see timeskip Shouto and there's no word about his brother. Do they mourn him? Did he live? It just doesn't matter, cause Touya didn't matter so long as he wasn't a prop for his abuser.

Yeah I'm still pissed about it

#Your english is fine by the way #Ali replies

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bestangelofall · 3 months

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I want Bruce to face consequences so badly.

I want him to realize that the only reason Jason keeps coming back is because of his own actions, because he abused him.

I want him to apologize and tell Jason that no, it's not okay and he will continue talk because Jason needs to know.

And Jason still doesn't understand at the end. Why is he apologizing? Jason was out of line. He deserved it. Bruce is the good guy, he can't have abused him. Right?

Yeah, unfortunately, that isn't happening until someone infiltrates DC comics and does something lol

I think we can look at the fact that Jason keeps coming back (and how Bruce sees it) from the perspective that Bruce is a terrible father, but ultimately doesn't plan the abuse or deliberately exploits Jason's vulnerabilities (your second paragraph) OOOOR, we can look at it from the perspective that he's deliberately exploiting Jason's need for love/acceptance to keep him leashed (so, there's no "Bruce realizing what he's doing" because he's planned that all along).

(To sum it up, it can be a case of Bruce realizing what he's doing or knowing using that all along).

In both situations, the idea of Bruce apologizing is infuriating. In the first scenario, Bruce realizing his erros just... happens too late. He already damaged Jason horribly, and I think that the temptation to simply accept the forgiveness is just too great. Personally I find that interesting if there is no reconciliation or closure (not for real, you know?)

As for the second scenario, well, that one is rancid, but interesting for Jason angst. 🙃 (And I prefer it tbh).

Now, I think Jason wouldn't believe that he was out of line. I need him to be very sure of his own stance of things and morality, and sacrifice that for getting Bruce's love/whatever you want to call it.

Jason seeing the abuse happen, and mostly knowing it is abuse, but understanding it as the price he has to pay if he wants to keep the only "family" he has.

Jason learning about Dick beating Bruce in 138 when he learned about the brain modification and being even more sure that he doesn't want to lose that. It's the greatest gesture anyone has done for him in this family *in a while*.

And since I prefer scenario 2 above: Bruce seeing all that, and using it all to make Jason stay. Promising him things that he'll never give, because he knows that, for Jason, the temptation of the "what if" (what if Bruce really loves him? What if he's actually part of the family? What if there is a place he can call home?) will be too strong to resist.

Anyway... Sorry for the long answer anon. I just have completely normal thoughts about this.

#and tbh i would prefer if canon went in the direction of jason noping the fuck out forever.#but i cant deny that the angst potential (for exploration in fic because dc would never explore the intricacies of whats going on)#i cant deny that that has a hold on me lol #ALSO in this moment i really do prefer dick not being complicit in what bruce does #but the potential of him being a complicit is also interesting.#anti bruce wayne #jason todd #batman 138 #batman 148 #asks answered

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mylordshesacactus · 8 months

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VERY soft about my girl Atri tonight tho.

She's a little baby cleric, nineteen, level 2 and one of those is in ranger, raised in a cloister, never been more than a day's travel from her home temple before, but her devotion to the Raven Queen is very real and very very tender.

We're running Death House as the optional intro to Curse of Strahd (so, spoilers if you're avoiding those!) and just. God, I'm so glad I decided to play my girl in this campaign, it's perfect for her.

Atri's defining character trait is that she loves the undead--truly and genuinely, even the mindless or vicious undead, because by their very nature the undead suffer. They're trapped--sometimes in prisons of their own making, yes, but trapped--and, worst of all, very few people seem to care. Even other clerics of her Lady generally view undead as abominations; to be pitied, maybe, and the peaceful ones treated with kindness, but objects of revulsion, an aberration of the natural order, something to be purged.

Atri says: The undead aren't abominations. Necromancers are.

In her world the Goddess of Death makes a promise: All chains are broken. Death means an end--no more joy and memories but no more suffering, no more fear, no more loneliness or pain. No matter what, or what you did in life, bad or good--death ends it. No one can hurt you, and you can't hurt anyone else.

Necromancy breaks that promise. It gives cruel spirits the ability to continue harming others when they should be past all chance of it, and it allows the innocent to continue to suffer. Spirit-binding is an obscenity--you cannot command a soul. No one has that right.

Which means this module has been, just...I couldn't design a scenario to better let Atri shine.

It says a lot about her that, having more than established that the lady of the house murdered her husband and his pregnant paramour using fucked-up necromancy and her vengeful spirit appears to still be around, Atri's response was...to gulp, light incense in her censor, and walk a slow circle around the room, calling out politely to the Lady Elizabeth and offering her some understanding--you must have been very hurt, and very angry. Your husband disrespected you in your own home, and that was wrong of him. I'm sorry you were betrayed that way. Will you talk to me? I'm Atri, Order of the Broken Chain, I'm here to help...

(It says a lot about her, also, that she made no further attempt at reconciliation after finding what she did to her victims. Compassion doesn't mean forgiveness. She just...lit the incense again, called out to what was left of Klara, and very very softly apologized. You were taken advantage of--whether you felt that way or not. And then you were hurt very badly by your employer. They shouldn't have done any of it...I'm sorry. Someone should have helped you...)

The party in and out of character has been pushing Atri to the forefront to do the talking-to-ghosts bit. She's had some lovely, lovely tender conversations with Klara and the kids, telling them how sorry she is, that she and her friends are here to help them...she cut the bindings on the bed where Klara was tortured to death, just as a gesture that might bring her spirit some closure. Broken chains, a promise kept too late. Recited full funerary rites over what was left of the poor woman's body.

Just feeling VERY soft that while we DID ask them important questions about the plot, 90% of Atri's conversations with ghosts in this house haven't been about mystery-solving; they've been about slowly, gently, prying free some of the pain that's kept them trapped in the place just as much as the fucked-up necromancy.

If Atri dies in this prologue, calling it now it'll be because she's not gonna run if it means leaving anyone behind.

#d&d #strahd campaign

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daphnebowen · 2 months

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descendants rise of red thoughts

warning: these are probably nonsensical and just a lot of confusion/venting/random excitement?? but enjoy regardless:

I'm glad that they explained jay, evie, and mal's absence right off the bat

Uma and mal's relationship >>>

Not me bawling my eyes out already at the mention of Carlos, we all know uma's tears were china's tears 😭😭

Wonderland is GORGEOUS

"DEVIL ON MY SHOULDER" WHERE THE ANGELS USED TO BE

this fight scene is so unrealistic

LUCIUS MALFOY?!?! (nope it's a dupe)

can I just say Kylie is GORGEOUS in red??

MAD HATTER SON SIGHTING AND I LOVE HOW HIS NAME IS MADDOX

who would have guessed she used the hug with Maddox to steal the Time Machine - hmm, not me!!

Brandy is absolutely KILLING IT her voice is majestic

but where does Chad fit into all of this??? like isn't he the son of Cinderella but he doesn't look like his dad or mom?

the queen of hearts accent is soooo soothing

she (the queen of hearts) reminds me a LOT of Audrey, in her looks, her mannerisms, the way she speaks, her everything, it's kinda crazy

A MENTION OF CHAD!!! Maybe it's possible! who cares about genetics!!

okay queen of hearts buggy is 🤩🤩

Chloe reminds me so much of evie and red reminds me so much of mal!! this is probably obvious to everyone and on purpose but oh well

WHATS MY NAME REMIXXXXX AHHHH

where's Harry and Gil bro not even a mention of them??? they were uma's best friends bffr

Omg I haven't seen Dara in a lot of other things but she is SLAYING the crazy uliana character

Chloe running around fixing all the things red's messing around with is so accurate

WICKED STEPMOM SIGHTING

anyways, the house Cinderella grew up in is soooo accurate to how I pictured it

I don't think poor chloe has ever touched a mop lol

Dara doesn't even sound like herself in this song

THAT EEL FREAKING SCARED ME GAGAHAGAGA IT LOOKS JUST LIKE FLOTSAM AND JETSAM which is probably the point but oh well here I am

the way my heart DROPPED when she smashed the shoes!!!! 😢😢

oh snap. I did NOT expect red to go there (speaking about the "how did that end up for her?" talking about Chloe's mom) THATS SO AWFUL AND HORRIBLE MY JAW DROPPED

young Cinderella can SINGGGG

Love how they never showed Chloe's feet after she threw her glass shoes into the fireplace 😂 not important but I thought it was funny

love the kid barking and meowing and making Merlin rethink his life choices

I definitely thought for a second that red was gonna be like "actually, I want to stay in this timeline"

OMG I HOPE THIS WORKS

YESSSS UMAAAA SLAYYYYYY ILYYYY

the costume change for queen of hearts is EVERYTHING

how is Chloe going to explain the broken glass shoes to her mom lol

nothing gets past Uma lol she's ALL KNOWING OUR QUEEN

final thoughts: reaaaalllyyyy wishing we could have brought back more of the og's or even got a little more closure about Carlos and his death. even though I know everyone's moving on and healing and dove especially is distancing herself from Disney and trying to be her own person without that (which, I respect) I still would have liked a cameo, a sort of "passing the torch" thing. without them it kinda was abrupt and strange, but having fairy godmother and Uma definitely benefited the movie. Red and Chloe were definitely well thought out and loveable and relatable characters for me, being a perfectionist myself and having three little troublemaking brothers who want nothing to do with me or my family at all. I feel like there was hardly any real time to get to know the other characters at all though! particularly young Bridget and ella, I definitely would have loved to see more of them. even uliana, although she made such a big impact and interest with her limited amount of screen time, put it to good use and made the most, though I would have wanted more. More backstory between her and Ursula's relationship, perhaps??? Uma and uliana reconciliation?? where is uliana now??? etc etc etc. I feel like the movie was so short there wasn't a ton of time to fully flesh things out and explore the characters and yet the pacing was great for the plot, so I don't know how those two things work together but somehow it felt rushed and yet perfect at the same time?? Like I don't know what they could have added to make it longer. definitely wanted more Uma and fairy godmother banter and updates on all the vks and auradon kids!!! how's Jane!!! ESPECIALLY NOW CARLOS IS NO LONGER WITH US?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? what about Lonnie!! and dizzy and the twins and Doug and Harry and Gil and all those other rascals. good to know Chad's off playing tourney in college and we know mal, Ben, evie, and jay are sailing around the world making amends with other countries and forming alliances. but yeah. overall I was pretty satisfied, obviously I don't think ANYTHING could top the iconic original descendants but I feel like this one did its job. it continued the story and introduced many new characters and a new timeline and plot line that was easy to follow while also leaving room for more and for wanting more. didn't even mention the music but I felt a lot of it was suuuuper repetitive and just this pop thing. where are my ballads!!! my if onlys!!! everything was just like "rotten to the core" or "chillin like a villain" and I wanted some emotional songs. Yes, I love a good pop upbeat song but I don't want an entire movie of them. everyone sang great I think, except I couldn't tell what was real and what was auto tune, but anyways. so yeah, I'd rate this movie a 7.5 out of 10. Pretty decent but still... not the greatest. as to almost be expected without our original cast.

side note: anyone wondering, if Cameron Boyce hadn't passed away, do we think they still would have continued adding on to that original trilogy and storyline or do we think that they would have brought in the new characters and storylines anyway? just a thought, I've always wondering what it would be like if cam hadn't passed. rest in peace xo 💋

#descendants #descendants rise of red #red #chloe charming #rise of red #red descendants #descendants the rise of red #mal bertha #evie grimhilde #jay descendants #carlos de vil #uma descendants #queen of hearts #bridget descendants #ella descendants #charming #idk how to tag these characters without knowing their last names lmao

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metamorphesque · 5 months

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also I just want to say- i am sorry for what your people's ancestors and ancestresses went through and my hearth breaks knowing what are still suffering Armenian people in Azerbajan. It is truly horrible not only what Armenian people went through, but that you (as in: the whole Armenian population) are still not allowed to have a closure because the real responsable have never apologized or even recoignized the fact that the genocide happened.

I knew about the genocide because an Italian writer of Armenian origins wrote two books called "La Masseria delle Allodole" and "La Strada Per Smirne", that I suppose are a bit autobiographic or at least family-biographic, because they told the stories of what her family and theirs families and friends went through back in the day. I don't know if they are avaliable in English, or how accurate they are, but I supposed you might be interested in knowing that they exist and they are read💕

wishing you the best.

Dearie, thank you for your message and your empathy. It means a lot to me and to many Armenians to hear such understanding and support. Understanding, wrapped in the warmth of compassion, is a beacon of hope amidst the darkness of unresolved grievances.

Recognition and acknowledgment of genocides and historical injustices are crucial steps toward healing and reconciliation. Alas, this is a luxury that my nation cannot afford. To this very day, Azerbaijan and its puppetmaster Turkey are overtly and unashamedly pursuing their barbarous agenda of “leaving only one Armenian alive – and that is for a museum”, and the world is doing nothing but supporting them. The fact that our government is not better than those savages and is slowly but surely selling our land to the enemy leaves little room to hope.

Ah! Antonia Arslan! How can an Armenian not know this name? I saw the movie adaptation (brilliant!) of “The Lark Farm” when I was 8 and I have not been the same ever since. The harrowing truth that’s portrayed in the film (the book) is simply impossible to bear for the human psyche. I remember weeping for hours and not being able to stop.

Once again – thank you, dear, for your compassion. It means more than you can imagine.

Take care!

#lovely people #asks #armenian history #armenian genocide

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eirenical · 4 months

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Full Circle (2685 words) by eirenical

Summary:

Two people meet in the course of a journey, and endings aren't always what they seem. Endings aren't always the end. Sometimes they're just a new sort of beginning.

He'd walked for hours, perhaps days, nothing to guide his steps but a vague instinct, a pull that knew no rest. His journey would be over soon, that instinct said. He could lay down his burdens, let go of the last of himself and finally be at peace. Just a few steps more… just a few hours more…

The light was so dim now.

He kept walking.

It had been a risk, a desperately calculated one, made too fast for real thought or logic to hold sway. He wouldn't be the first to fake his own death, to flee from the consequences of his actions. They would search for him, he had thought, but someone had intervened. What difference did it make if his body was fuel for someone's fire or a grisly example for others like him? He was dead. Gone. No longer a threat.

As if he'd ever really been one.

And so he walked, one aching foot in front of the other, letting instinct guide his steps. He would put as much distance as possible between himself and those who might seek him out, might suspect the truth behind his "stolen" corpse. Every step forward was a step away from that.

He kept walking.

Continue reading on AO3

Notes, tags, and other fic info beneath the cut.

June 2nd: Feels over Shan Gudao and Li Xiangyi have been eating at my brain for weeks now, and I finally found the energy to put some of it down on paper. This is a "what could have been" alternate ending. Since this show is so fond of people faking their deaths, let's say it could have happened once more. I've left the ending ambiguous, so feel free to make of it what you will. ^_^

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 莲花楼 | Mysterious Lotus Casebook (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Li Lianhua | Li Xiangyi & Shan Gudao Characters: Li Lianhua | Li Xiangyi, Shan Gudao Additional Tags: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Closure, Reconciliation, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Shan Gudao Lives, Blindness

#mysterious lotus casebook #li xiangyi #li lianhua #shan gudao #li xiangyi & shan gudao #li lianhua & shan gudao #eirenical.fic #rating: g #author chose not to use archive warnings #ambiguous/open ending #reconciliation #canon divergence #mlcb fanfic

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moonshynecybin · 10 months

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but they do not STAY divorced right….what combination of whacky hijinks of trying to avoid the camera brings them together (or at least closer)

yes of course it is much harder to ignore someone from two feet away than from the other side of the paddock!! especially with no closure...

so for real i do think like. every non-au scenario for reconciliation has to start with vale. bc hes kind of the guy who blew everything up. if vale starts something, marc's gonna meet him where he lives after a bit (maybe a long bit lol), but marc is also. very good. at clamming tf up about stuff like sepang. look at last race. bez (vale heir) goes after him in the press and marc literally did not engage with it at all. he said NEXT. i dont have time for CLOWNS. like i think he is very invested in not getting sucked into the valentino vortex and keen on protecting himself after all the mess from their falling out. so hes not going to be the one reaching out. ALL THIS TO SAY: how do we get vale to put aside all his pride and delusion and suck marc sloppy style.

EYE lean towards (in the absence of a post-retirement existential crisis) pure horniness being the thing that flips the lever. marc is canonically a thirst trap king. so vale is now haunting that damn garage like it is his job. he says. i am here to keep tabs on my baby brother. everyone with eyeballs including his brother can see. he is here to check out marc. who is mysteriously missing his shirt.

marc becomes aware of this. and despite his better judgement leans into his intrinsic slut tendencies. like HEY. he hasnt gotten laid properly in since 2015 (per dr baking-soda) and CRUCIALLY. it feels good. and hes trying to feel good more often. and try as he might to break the habit, he still enjoys it when vale looks at him. olivia_rodrigo_bad_idea_right?.mp3.gov

all this to say vale breaks after marc starts doing PT shirtless like these iconic gifs. just sweaty and neck bared and making insane faces and insane noises and vale in the corner with his little energy drink just nodding at luca and absorbing none of what he's saying bc marc's behind him on a table looking like he's in an arthouse porno. gold skin tense abs the whole thing. anyways vale drags him into a room and they get NASTAYYYYY and the dam is broken. they are fucking like monster trucks, they are inventing new levels of undernegotiated kink, they are laughing in bed a surprising amount that reminds them both of how good it used to be when they were together... marc is getting his pussy WORKED out. honda hospitality turns into an HR violation and luca is in the corner. annoyed.

#there are OF COURSE tender emotional conversations afterwards but truly i think what breaks him is marc's WAP. lets discuss.#motogp #callie speaks #asks

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the-obnoxious-sibling · 9 months

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Emotional damage aside

How do you think buggy arc, assuming we will get one, can play out without him interacting with shanks? And do you think buggy just getting over his past friendship would be having equally satisfying impact on the story as them becoming close again?

well, my shuggy bias is 100,000% at play here, but i think a version of buggy’s arc that doesn’t involve shanks in the end just can’t be as satisfying as one that does involve him, whether it’s a proper reconciliation or just confrontation/closure. the way buggy thinks and feels about shanks has been such a huge part of the way buggy talks about his life and thinks about his goals, it would feel imbalanced to me if he wasn’t there at the end, somehow.

but what could a buggy arc without shanks in it look like? that’s an interesting question. two options (one a hurt no comfort version of my lt fic still pretty shanks-oriented, one an honest attempt at a shanksless buggy arc) below the cut.

if we’re just saying no interactions, shanks can still be part of buggy’s story in absentia, as he has been for much of canon. something to strive for, the measuring stick of buggy’s life, always frustratingly out of reach… until now. now buggy can practically taste the look of shock and awe on shanks’ face when buggy beats him to the one piece! it’s gonna be so good, getting everything he wants and rubbing it in his stupid face. but then shanks dies. shanks is dead. he never got the one piece, and he never got to see buggy get the one piece, and buggy’s never going to see him again, and— the one piece is within buggy’s reach, and so is the person who killed shanks. what does buggy want more: riches or revenge? what does he value more: treasure or an old friend?

buggy wants the one piece for two reasons, right? one: because it’s the biggest most valued most legendary treasure on the planet, and buggy loves treasure. and two: because it’s captain roger’s treasure, and buggy wants to inherit that legacy, if shanks won’t do it. so i think we could manage a satisfying no-shanks arc for buggy if it involves him proving himself worthy of roger’s legacy. not by getting the one piece—i may be engaging in buggy-centric speculation but i think we all know that thing’s meant for luffy—but by gaining the respect of cross guild, and of the other emperors, and of the wider pirate world. the marines are wary of their misapprehension of buggy’s charisma; let’s see his real inspirational ability used for a good purpose. let’s have half the world call him a hero and half call him a monster, and either way mean that they consider him roger’s successor! let’s have rayleigh show up and tell buggy he’s proud of him!!!

#asked and answered #one piece #buggy #shuggy #this isn’t LITERALLY about shuggy but in spirit… yes it is.#re option 2: you know in dbz when mr satan uses his fame to get all the regular humans to contribute to goku’s super spirit bomb?#using the power and influence acquired through fraud and greed for a selfless purpose… i think buggy could pull that off!#it also feeds into the ‘history is a story the powerful use to mislead the masses’ theme that buggy’s been a part of since marineford #—end of series speculation #—death flags #—history as propaganda

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imagine-you · 9 months

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writin' you a letter and I don't know where to start part 2 of 3 [steve harrington/reader]

summary: You think leaving Hawkins will be a painless and easy farewell, but when you reconnect with Steve Harrington the night before you're set to leave town, you realize there's something still left in Hawkins you'll miss. You decide to write Steve a letter and when he writes back, you can't help but feel thrilled to reforge your connection with him. It's easy to fall in love with Steve, but when you fall out of touch again, you think you're officially done with him once and for all. Years later, you're visiting your parents in Hawkins for Christmas, when a deputy pulls you over and you realize maybe Hawkins and Steve aren't done with you. word count: 2.3k author's note: this was meant to be a oneshot, but I had a family emergency last week and I couldn't finish this in one go. so much thought and love has gone into planning this fic, so to entice you a bit more, part three involves deputy!steve and reconciliation. 💖

part one / part two / part three

Weeks passed and you were just as lonely in Chicago as you were in Hawkins.

You couldn't help but feel like a total failure as a person. You hadn't made one new friend and half the time your mind was focused on Hawkins. No, not Hawkins. Steve.

You fell asleep at night thinking of the way Steve felt pressed against you while you were dancing and woke up wishing he was there to recreate the sensation all over again. You had never outright longed for anyone or anything as much as you did for Steve. He had awakened something within you. It was a want that you had never experienced before and you weren’t even sure if you wanted to entertain it or ignore it.

It wasn't only that, though. Steve had made you feel wanted. His whole focus had been on you and you still felt breathless at the thought of his breath against your ear and his hands on you. Just the memory of that moment with Steve was intoxicating and you wanted more.

You felt stupid for wanting someone you could never have, but you wanted to feel the way you did when you were dancing with Steve. Chicago was just cold and lonely and you didn't think you'd be able to move on from Hawkins if you were still so focused on something you didn't even realize you would miss once it was out of your life.

One night, sleep eluded you because you kept thinking of Steve Harrington and his dumb, beautiful eyes and gorgeous hair. You felt crazy and stupid as the minutes ticked by and you were still thinking of him. You thought maybe you just needed some type of closure. Maybe you just needed to know that Steve had forgotten all about you and you probably wouldn't ever see him again.

So, you found yourself getting out of bed and walking over towards your desk. You turned on your lamp and grabbed a piece of paper before you began to write:

Dear Steve, I don't know why I'm writing you this letter. I guess I feel like we have too much history just to leave it at a dance with no real goodbye. I know how this is going to sound, but I've been thinking about you a lot. We knew everything about each other when we were kids. Like, remember when you came over to my house and my mom made us grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup? But you hate tomato soup, and you didn't want to hurt her feelings, so you tried to eat it and you ended up crying? And then I slurped your soup down so fast I burned my tongue just so you wouldn't have to eat anymore? I never told anyone about that. Not even my mom. Or what about when I had a Malibu Barbie and I tried to marry her to your G.I. Joe and you got so pissed off because you swore up and down that he would never get married to Barbie? And I was so mad that I cried and then wrote you a list of all the reasons why G.I. Joe would be lucky to get a girl like Malibu Barbie. Whatever happened to that list? Did you throw it away? Light it on fire? Bury it in your yard? Anyways, Chicago is great, but I'm wondering how things are going back in Hawkins. Hope you're well! -- Y/N

You weren't sure if you actually had any intention of sending the letter, but the next morning when you woke up, you asked your mom for a stamp.

"A stamp?" She sounded surprised by the question, but she started to rummage through her purse. "What do you need a stamp for?"

You shrugged your shoulders, helpless against the hopeful little smile you gave her. "A letter."

Your mom laughed, but didn't try to get you to tell her who the letter was addressed to. "Here you go," she told you, handing over the little book of stamps she had in her purse. "Keep it. In case you write another one."

"I doubt it," you denied with a shake of your head. "Thanks," you added before allowing her to pull you into a hug.

"I know this move has been a lot on you," she said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "But if there's anything you need to make any of this any better, then I'll get it for you."

You nodded your head before pushing closer into your mom's embrace. "Thanks," you repeated, feeling overwhelmingly grateful for your mom.

You couldn't quite squash the little tendril of hope you felt that Steve just might write you back. But as weeks passed and there was no letter waiting for you each day after school, you started to figure that Steve couldn't have cared less about responding.

You had resigned yourself to never hearing from him again. He was just a fleeting crush and you needed to move on.

Your resolve to stay strong and emotionless went right out the window when your mom handed you an envelope halfway through your spring break.

"Steve Harrington, huh?"

"What?" You barely resisted the urge to reach out and snatch the envelope away from her. Instead, you calmly held your hand out and took it. You half-expected to see your letter with a 'return to sender' stamp on it, but you were pleasantly surprised to see your name and Steve's switched, letting you know that he had responded after all.

"You two used to be nearly inseparable," she mused, her expression betraying her amusement. "What happened?"

You didn't want to quite break the news to your mom that her kid was a total loser on the high school social scale, so you stuck with shrugging your shoulders. "Who knows?" You turned and barely stopped yourself from fleeing towards your room. Instead, you turned the letter over and over in your hands, trying to see if you could somehow read the words through the envelope.

You swore you could hear your mom laughing as you raced up the stairs once you were finally out of her line of sight. You didn't know what had her so amused, but you could barely contain your excitement as you sat down at your desk and finally ripped open the envelope. You pulled the letter out and began to read:

Dear Y/N, I was really surprised to hear from you. I thought once you made it out to a big city, you'd drop anything that reminded you of Hawkins. Glad to know I was wrong. I do remember hating tomato soup, but me crying? No way. I think you're making that one up. I totally remember you crying over your doll. And G.I. Joe still won't marry Malibu Barbie. Maybe I should find out what I did with that list and make my own list of why he would totally go for another babe. But you're right. About us having all that history? It seems weird that we stopped talking. I wonder why that happened. Do you have any plans for the summer? I've got to get a job to prove my worth or whatever to my dad so I'm going to be slinging ice cream at the mall. Sounds fun huh? Is rocky road still your favorite? If you happen to visit this summer, I'll save you a scoop. Where you going to college? Out there in Chicago or somewhere else? Try not to hold how smart you are over my head or anything. I know you're an egghead. -- Steve

Your face was beginning to hurt from how long you had been smiling, but you didn't care. Steve had not only written you back, but he seemed to expect a response from you.

You grabbed a piece of paper and started writing your reply. You didn't want to seem too eager, but you didn't want to lose the tentative friendship you seemed to be reforming with Steve. If anything, you could always craft a response now and then wait a couple weeks to send it.

Steve, As much as I didn't fit in there, Hawkins will always be a part of my history. And so will you. But I do want us to remain friends, which is why I wrote you in the first place. And really, Steve? Come on. You cried all the time when we were kids. If you don't remember the tomato soup incident, then what about when we broke into Mrs. Featherstone's yard? We really wanted to go sledding and she had the best hill in her backyard. I stood on watch while you jumped the fence and then you let me in. We took turns going down the hill and then you hit a rock and scraped your knee. You cried at the first sight of blood and I ran and got Mrs. Featherstone and she was so pissed with us. But she bandaged you up and gave us cookies and sent us home. You can't tell me you don't remember that happening. I saw that scar on your knee last time I saw you play basketball, so I know it hurt. And if you don't remember crying that day, then I have a million other stories to try to jog your memory. Also, I don't think I'm planning on doing much this summer besides getting ready for school. I got into a few colleges, but I'm sticking around Chicago, so I'll go to the university here. It's supposed to be a really good school. And don't try to tell me you're not smart, Steve. I know you are. Maybe you don't know that, but I do. Let me know how much you make scooping ice cream. If I fail out of my first semester of college, maybe I'll join you next year. Write back soon! -- Y/N

You felt a little thrill at demanding Steve write back, but you couldn't deny that you wanted a response from him now more than ever. You wished you had the guts to just pick up the phone and call him, but you didn't even know if he still had the same phone number from when you were kids. Worse yet, you might call and his mom might answer. You were sure it wouldn't be long before she got in touch with your mom and then they would think it was just the cutest thing ever that the two of you were friends again.

So, no. You would stick to writing for now.

It felt like torture as you waited a week and then two weeks to finally mail the letter. You knew it was saving the shred of dignity you had not to let Steve know just how eager you were to talk to him, but you hated having to wait.

You were happy when Steve's response came only a week later. It was easier to convince yourself to send a letter back after only three days. You loved sharing your childhood memories with Steve, but you also looked forward to hearing about his life in Hawkins. There were moments when time seemed to drag on unusually long between his responses, but you figured things in Hawkins were always taking a turn for the worse.

He told you about the mall burning down and the causalities that ensued. He told you about his new job and friend named Robin. You couldn't help feeling the slightest bit jealous of his newfound best friend, but you figured you were just being silly. Nothing would ever happen between you and Steve, and while it was nice to hope, you had to stay realistic if you wanted to guard your heart.

You continued to write Steve throughout the first semester of your freshman year at University of Chicago. When you passed all your finals, Steve congratulated you and told you he would take you out for a drink if you ever made it back to Hawkins. You wondered if Steve was asking you out on a date, but you quickly dashed the idea.

No matter how much you tried to guard your heart, you still couldn't seem to stop yourself from falling fast and hard for Steve. Every letter just strengthened your connection and all you could think about was hearing his laugh and seeing his smile and feeling his hand in yours.

It was a couple weeks before the spring break of ‘86 when you decided to throw all caution to the wind and tell Steve how you felt.

Steve, I know this is crazy. I feel pretty crazy right about now. But these letters and talking to you has meant the world to me. I have feelings for you, Steve. Really intense, huge, scary feelings. And I just like you so damn much. If you feel the same way, then maybe I can visit Hawkins for spring break? And maybe we can get something to eat or go see a movie or get a drink and just see where this goes. But if you don't feel the same, then feel free to just ignore this. I just couldn't take it any longer and I had to know if I was in this alone or if you were there with me too. Let me know. -- Y/N

You knew that waiting on a response would feel nearly impossible, but you never for once thought that Steve would simply not write back. Your wait spanned days and weeks and months and years. You had cried every night of your spring break, wishing for an alternate universe where Steve had responded in kind and you were spending your time in Hawkins, unbelievably happy and in love.

You had well and truly given up on ever hearing back from Steve by the time your sophomore year of college started. You convinced yourself you didn't care and that you would never have to see or speak to Steve Harrington ever again.

What were the odds that you would ever end up back in Hawkins, anyways?

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #imagine #reader insert #stranger things x reader #writin you a letter fic #reader #my fic

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