#one is like 3k words

[m0e-ru]

draw souyo. please

yeas boss 🫡

[beatcroc]

turns out i have to make an unnecessarily wordy thoughtspost about doombox too bc there is nothing about this character that isn't fucking ridiculous and also really funny and i'm kind of really obsessed with all of it. ordinarily i would just start firing but in this case I need to just. paste his bio and then go through it step by step because every phrase here is absurd when looking at how he's handled along with the other characters and the world as a whole. here we go

first sidenote: i should also add 'nonsensical' to the list of descriptors up there, because this is a fighting game and no doubt has the typical Bad Fighting Game Writing at play that doesn't really hold up when put under scrutiny as i'm about to, but understand that this is something i've come to love about the genre and its typically batshit lore, and it further enhances the experience for me. it's all utter nonsense and its my favorite shit ever.

the biggest thing to me that makes his entire shtick ridiculous is that he was explicitly made to be a weapon. like his express purpose is destruction and/or killing people, and he certainly has the disposition to be doing that. except that he is not doing that. he's out there playing Ball Game, evidently of his own volition.

i feel it is also important to highlight that he was not originally or intentionally a boombox; he just kinda lives in there. his own bio frames it as happenstance, but sonata's dlc skin lore** implies he isn't permanently stuck in there and can kinda just hop out and take control of whatever he wants whenever he wants. there is an entire goddamn tank just sitting there in the background of one of these stages. he is a weapon. there is heavy artillery readily available to him that he could be commanding if he wanted to, but he's not doing that either. he is still a boombox. i think he likes it in there. *there's an argument to be made that maybe he's not powerful enough to control something that large, or maybe just that switching hosts is really tiring or risky. im just saying though there's like a bajillion host devices better suited for A Fucking Weapon than a boombox, but he seems really committed to this for some reason. while im here btw it's fucking terrifying that he apparently can possess thing that are Not tech as well **as a side note from that the specific mention of her boomhammer is interesting. i don't think it's an intentional implication but i enjoy the idea he has an affinity for sound-based devices; i like to think the boombox left an impression on him with its being the initial thing he possessed and got used to

and then there is the berserking. the 'rampaging', as it is otherwise called. not exactly strange on its own given his temperament and designation, but strange for the way it's characterized as only a tendency. it's only that he's prone to rampaging. he rampages often, but not all the time. just often! what is he doing he is not rampaging? getting a custom trimmed jacket with his own logo emblazoned on it? like a nerd? and on the flipside, what exactly do these rampages even entail? because it's apparently not anything destructive or disruptive enough for anyone to care about stopping him under normal circumstances.

like how are you a giant angry "not exactly stable" weapon of a guy and everyone's like 'yeah that's fine. that's our doombox!' toxic's specific wording regarding his getting unfucked postgame is "back to his old raging self", which implies to me there's almost a certain fondness, or at least amusement, at his being like this. i know one of the core themes of lethal league is letting these oddball misfit dudes do their thing and freely be who they are, but like. is doombox sincerely just not a threat for that? like really? dice's interactions also sort of imply that his actually trying to kill someone is really out of the ordinary for him so truly like. db my man what ARE you doing out there. * re: toxic and dice's talking about him; i do also find it amusing that one of his defining traits is just being pissed off all the time. again, not surprising given his purpose/designation as a weapon, but funny in that it's like. how he's KNOWN; in the sense that it is immediately noticeable and a cause for concern for other characters to see he is Not angry. fuckin social barometer of a guy. local angry guy isn't angry, something's wrong.

the "reasons for playing in the league unknown" bit also strikes me as a little odd even though it REALLY shouldn't. i'm like 97% sure it's just written like that to make him seems mysterious and unpredictable and dangerous, but it's a weird thing to call attention to when you consider that...less than half of the other characters' reasons are known? raptor is there trying to get info on his dad, that one's well out there. dust & ashes i think have some kind of implied reason for being there as well but it of course isn't elaborated on, and grid is like trying to impress "the youth" and establish a profile or something. nitro seems like he might not actually be IN the league as an official competitor? it's just helpful for him to know how to ball for the situations he gets into with his investigations. everybody else's "reason" pretty much seems like they're just out there to have fun. and toxic says as much in the story mode intro! the game was developed for people to escape the monotonies of shine city! so to imply doombox has a separate, non-recreational reason for being here is weird. the easiest read on it for me is just that he was drawn to it cause it's intense and destructive but at the same time.... if all he wants is an excuse to wreck shit....why are you competing in a structured sports game with rules and shit my dude. you are a weapon. just go attack people. except that we've established that he doesnt really do that. so. once again. what IS he doing out here

----

aside from the bio though, there's of course random little tidbits of characterization throughout the game itself and they are all also likewise ridiculous.

he refers to himself in third person, which is always an amusing choice for a character in general. it carries with it a certain sense of ego, an awareness of and and pride in one's presence and gravitas. this was mostly just surprising to me bc before i started looking at everything, i'd assumed he was more or less mindless and, yknow, robotic; without much personality/reason for being there beyond being the Biggest Baddest Best At Ball Game Guy doombox is already very imposing, so this is frankly a well-earned sense of pride for him to have.....but it still doubles back to being funny again because, as i've established above, he could stand to be a hell of a lot scarier! but he doesn't seem to notice or care that there are many readily-available options for becoming more powerful and/or establishing himself as unquestionable top dog. so instead he is a boombox. third-person is also often used for characters who are a little dumb, and i think this applies to doombox as well. he is a weapon, and clearly a brute-force-over-precision type of weapon at that, he doesnt need smarts. i think this is also sort of hinted at with his voice lines; where the other characters have some kind of snarky phrase or one-liner for their kill/score voice line, doombox just goes "bye-bye". Which is still appropriately Disrespectful, but it's also very, uh... simple. again i just think there are... more imposing things a guy like him could be saying there, but i guess he hasn't got anything more than fucking. bye-bye.

anyways the ego thing i think is well-echoed by his stupid fucking jacket. none of the other characters have their logo as part of their design and i'm pretty sure the rest of the symbols are just game abstractions and don't exist in-universe, but like. doombox is just going around wearing a jersey with his own damn face on it. ok. to be clear i love his jacket but it is literally so silly for him to have that. imagine being the guy having to custom-fit a fucking boombox. did db pay for it? how? we're getting into unproductive territory here but you could ask a million questions about that jacket and they all have hysterical implications. while im on the topic of designs i'd also like to say that while i don't count any of the other blaze redesigns as "canon" like actual events the characters went through between games [like raptor in particular would have already had to have the stitches since that's his backstory, it's just they weren't a design point before], doombox is in a weird spot since the first game's design for him was very specifically referencing its HUD in a meta way for his flavor and that was pretty much the entire extent of his flavor; while in blaze he and the HUD are very much separate distinct things with their own flavor. there's more to talk about here later but as it pertains to design what im saying is i think he just went out and found a better and cooler boombox to be in between games. and also got a funny jacket. *actually i have no idea if there's even a Timeline here. the gut vibe i had been running on was that blaze happens a couple years after the original, but looking at it now that doesn't seem right. does blaze Replace the timeline of the first game? are there even Events in the first game to count as a timeline? do they run concurrently?

alright anyway the last point here is the 3rd-person thing is even moreso interesting to me though bc i was under the assumption that 'doombox' was something akin to a codename he was given when other people saw this big fucking Thang rampaging through the streets. but seeing as 1. he's definitely aware of it, and 2. not even the damn scientists who made him knew he was in a boombox [as implied in his dlc skin lore], i'm led to believe he came up with the name himself. the fucking tape in his cassette player does just say 'doom' on it so i am choosing to believe that's either where he got the name, or that he put that on there himself.

MOVING on, another really good thing is that he does this

i just think it's funny he's continuing to use the thing as an actual boombox; i feel like that isn't something he necessarily Has to do. obviously he's susceptible to certain quirks and limitations of being a boombox re: mind control tape, but i don't think that means he has to play out its every function. i think he's doing that on purpose and i am filing it under "he likes it in there". hes listening to his jams.

also on a similar note,

this is also not important and i realize it's mostly just a quirky videogamey way to get around saying the robot kinda character is "asleep", but i do enjoy the implication that shine city's biggest terror is like out there running on 4 D-cells.

also i'm making this guy out to be a city street menace, and the vibe i had assumed for him before was like, a random encounter in the back alleys that you super do not want to run into; but his associated stage/hangout seems to be the desert/scrapyard? which i don't really have anything interesting to say to that, but it's definitely a different vibe for his character if he typically hangs out in more desolate areas.

---

i think maybe the most baffling thing doombox has going on is the apparent "rivalry" with dice. this is also bizzare from dice's side of things. what the fuck does it even mean to be "rivals" with doombox? what are they competing for? what kind of things does dice get up to that doombox would even give a shit about in the first place, let alone to be considered a rival in? i mean, like, the league, probably, but why dice specifically, out of everyone? would doombox's league rival not just be whoever's the [second] strongest there? i believe dice when he says they're evenly-matched, but there isn't really anything that implies dice is of particularly high prestige within the league so it feels like he shouldn't hold much interest as a target. to be fair dice doesn't seem like the type that would care about prestige, but again, if he's not out there flaunting his shit or trying to claim he's the best or whatever, why does db care? this would be a lot easier to understand if it was a one-sided thing on doombox's part like okay maybe dice pissed him off one day and he's still mad about it. whatever. that's the vibe they go for in story mode, but then there's dice's dlc skin description, which seems to run entirely counter to that and has dice as the aggressor:

when deprived of his usual sense and restraint, dice's first thought is I Gotta Go Fuckin Kill Doombox? even if he's over it under normal circumstances, it's clear both of them have some deeper-rooted beef in this exchange. there is yet another layer to this in that doombox is, weirdly enough, not really shown to be the kind of guy that's interested in revenge. again, going back to his own dlc description, he- and i quote- "couldn't care less" about the guys who made him capturing him and chaining him up. his only interest there is breaking out and getting back to doing his thing. if you want to be really generous, you could also read this vibe from the story mode epilogue: doombox was not the one hunting down the safety league, that was nitro. doombox was simply, as stated before "back to his old raging self". both of these to say, he simply does not seem to give a shit about people who have directly wronged him and only wants to Do His Thing. so. once again. what the fuck is going on with dice that they both have lasting beef here. i truly cannot fathom what either of them did to be so mad specifically at eachother. this rivalry is something they reference a LOT too like it's a big deal in-universe, or something otherwise really important to portray. like

lore so strong you gotta put it on an achievement!!!!! really!!!!! and there are no details whatsoever about this????? * while i'm here i'd just like to say have more questions about dice than fucking anything else in this game. sadly there's practically nothing to intuit from the game about any of his situations so i don't have much for coherent thoughts to post on him, but my god. what the fuck, dice. this rivalry is arguably the single strangest thing doombox has going on but it doesn't even break top 5 weird things about dice.

anyways, the final section and MOST interesting thing to me in all this is that, coming out of the first game, i was really under the impression that doombox is just the arbitrary final boss monster you gotta kill; no real purpose or personality his own to speak of, and most importantly just synonymous with the game itself and its aesthetics re: mirroring the HUD design. he certainly still holds the role of big scary final boss monster in blaze too, but blaze 1. has him much more fleshed-out as his own Guy, and more importantly, 2. doesn't really consider him a Problem like your typical big angry final boss monster. or at least not moreso than anything else going on in the game. he's not a threat to be eliminated, he's respected as a character and as a competitor in the league; and more than that he just seems to be... liked? as in, liked by other people in-universe? and he's liked enough that they'll readily help him out so he can keep doing his thing? i do think latch fixed him up postgame mostly bc he felt bad about being the one responsible for getting db brainwashed in the first place but like. the game could have just as easily gone "and then doombox was defeated yay" and left it at that. instead, they seem to have a vested interest in keeping him around. most transparently this is likely just a "we can't get rid of any of the playable characters or else story mode would be noncanon", BUT the point of this post is trying to read cohesive narrative sense into places there probably isn't any, and my read here is that doombox is a sort of inadvertent guardian of the league. for 1, he does still very much embody a lot of what the game [both The Videogame and the league itself] is about, but more importantly i think his presence is just really good at keeping a lot of the more minor threats at bay. if you try to fuck with the league, you will eventually be squaring off with doombox, most likely having freshly pissed him off in the process, and i can't imagine that goes well for who or whatever is in that situation. there's probably not much that wants to stand up to him by himself, and there's even less that can challenge the league as a whole unit; he's really just a good guy to have on your side like in general when you are running an illegal sports operation. i think at Worst toxic might see him as the league's funny little mascot but realistically i think she has more respect for him than that. either way i don't think he's going to care and it doesn't affect him much regardless. for this, doombox simply gets to keep doing his thing, whatever the fuck that may be. there are certainly still forces beyond his control at play here [as demonstrated in story mode by the safety league], and when these come into play, the league in turn looks out for him and keeps him on top of his game. i'm not sure if he has the, uh.... kind of cognitive ability that he could be grateful for this, but if nothing else, we know he seems to enjoy playing in the league, so he probably at least recognizes that he's not going to meet a lot of resistance in it and/or that it's a good environment to keep doing as he pleases. i don't mean for this all to sound so transactional, but it's hard to say whether he has much charisma in-universe for people to want him around for more "legitimate" reasons. likewise, there's also still a lot up in the air on how like... sapient doombox actually is. whether he can have complex motivations about anything or if he has some concept of "having friends" or if he can experience emotions besides rage; i tend to lean to "no" on those because i am really trying my damndest not to woobify this guy, but ultimately i don't think it matters much; in the end, he and the league are still mutually beneficial for eachother, and they still enjoy having the other around. and i think that's pretty cool :)

[delta-piscium]

part 2 | this is part two to this from Steve's perspective leading up to and including part one | cw unresolved angst [unfinished/for now not being worked on]

31 days until moving day.

Steve burst through the door to Family Video, swinging it open with way too much force. 

Robin jumps and opens her mouth, probably to tell him off for scaring her but he speaks before she gets the chance. 

“Eddie asked me to move to Chicago with him,” he blurts out, “Robin, he asked me to go with him.” 

Her eyes widen, “what did you say?” 

“That I’d go, of course,” he huffs. Like it’s even a question? like not going was ever an option?

Robin jumps over the counter squealing and hugs him so tight breathing becomes a little bit hard. 

“I’m moving away with Eddie,” he whispers into her hair, awed as he hugs her back. She somehow squeezes him even tighter and they stay like that for a minute until they have to actually do their jobs. 

An hour passes and Robin keeps shooting him contemplative looks.

“What?” He finally snaps after getting tired of waiting for her to say what she wants to say herself. 

She jumps again like she didn’t realize how obvious she was being, which honestly, she probably didn’t.

“Nothing, nothing.” 

“Robin,” he whines.

“Okay, just,” she scrunches her face up a bit and Steve knows that face, she’s trying to figure out how to say something to him she thinks he’ll react badly to. 

He narrows his eyes at her, bracing himself, “yes?” 

“I think you and Eddie are great together, and like I love you both and I am excited for you guys. You know that right?”

Steve nods, doesn’t say anything though, wants her to get to the point.

“I’m just also, maybe, a little bit worried.”

Steve’s eyebrows draw together, “what do you mean?” 

Robin is looking around nervously. Something heavy starts to form in Steve’s stomach. 

“You haven’t been together for very long and this is a big step. I just don’t wanna see either of you get hurt you know? I guess I’m just wondering if you’ve talked it all through? Because both of you have a tendency to jump into things without thought.”

They haven’t talked it through, not really. Eddie asked Steve to move, he said yes and that was pretty much it. It didn’t feel like they needed to talk it through though? Did they? Usually, they just dealt with things as they became relevant, that had worked for them so far. 

Robin must see something on his face because she quickly talks again, backtracking and interrupting his thoughts. 

“Not that I don’t think it will be great, you know I just worry about things a lot. This is my anxiety talking. You know what, ignore everything I just said. You two know what you’re doing.” 

He doesn’t want her to know she’s already put doubts in his head so even though he’s starting to freak out a little he smiles and shakes his head. 

“It’s fine Rob, I’m sure we will talk more with time.” 

22 days until moving day.

Steve meant it when he said he and Eddie would talk. Meant to ask about the logistics, meant to make sure they were on the same page, he really did. But every time the move comes up Eddie just seems so sure about it already. Steve doesn’t want to make him think he’s having second thoughts. Thinks maybe it’s better to not say anything, to wait and let it come up naturally. 

He thinks maybe they’ll talk about it tonight. The kids had joked about them all evening, about how fast they were moving.

Mike had made some snarky comment about them moving to a city where they knew no one and how awkward it would be if they crashed and burned and they’d have to share a bedroom. 

Eddie had laughed, said it was good they weren’t gonna crash and burn then. But, he’d also added that his band was also going so actually he would know people. 

It was just jokes, Steve knew that. That didn’t make it any less true though. Steve wouldn’t have anyone except Eddie, sure he liked the guys in his band but they weren’t his friends. Steve would have Eddie and Eddie would have his band. It suddenly seemed like a big deal.

He expects Eddie to also feel it, to get worried and bring it up but he doesn’t. If he is worried he isn’t saying anything, just like Steve isn’t.

8 days until moving day.

There’s a knock on Steve's door and when he opens Gareth is standing there. Steve is a lot confused about it but lets him in. 

“Uh,” he starts a little unsure, “do you want anything to drink or?” He offers, mostly because he doesn’t know what else to say or do. 

Gareth shakes his head, looking about as uncomfortable as Steve feels. Shuffling around where he’s standing and fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt. “No, I’m gonna leave again soon. I just came here to say something.” 

Steve gestures for him to speak, “I’m listening.” 

Gareth doesn’t immediately say anything, he shuffles some more and looks around the room before his eyes land on Steve again, a determined look in them. 

“Look, I like you. I know Eddie loves you.”

Steve can’t help but smile a little at that, even though he’s starting to suspect he’s in for a shovel talk. 

“And like, I probably wouldn’t do this if it weren’t for the fact that you haven’t dated for very long at all and are about to move in together in a city four hours away.”Gareth pauses and waits to speak again until Steve nods, showing he’s listening. 

“Eddie does things without thinking. He doesn’t think about the consequences, not anything, just does. I love that about him, it’s the reason our band has gotten anywhere at all, but it also means that he gets hurt a lot, disappointed a lot. He can handle it with most things, he won’t be able to handle it with you.”

“What are you saying?” Steve asks even though he’s pretty sure he already knows. 

Gareth looks pained but continues, “I’m saying that if you aren’t one hundred percent sure about moving with him, if you have any doubts at all, you can’t go.”

Steve can’t suppress his flinch. He expected Gareth to say he needed to be sure, that if he wasn’t he needed to tell Eddie. He wasn’t expecting him to say he shouldn’t, no, couldn’t go. 

Gareth catches it and narrows his eyes, “I mean it Steve, it will break him more if you go, let him think it’s gonna work and then leave, then if you don’t go at all.” He steps closer to Steve, getting into his space. “So, if you’re not absolutely sure,” he pauses, steps even closer, “Do. Not. Go.” He punctuates every word and then he turns on his heel and leaves.

6 days until moving day.

Steve needs to talk with Eddie about it now, can’t ignore it anymore. He isn’t gonna just not go like Gareth told him to do. No, he’ll talk to Eddie and it will be fine. 

They’re in his bed together, laying next to each other. Skin touching skin and a comfortable silence between them. Now is as good a time as any. 

“Hey, Eddie?” 

“Mhh?” He hums, shifting slightly next to him. 

“What happens if something goes wrong when we move?” 

Eddie snorts, “what? Like if we get a flat wheel? I know how to change a wheel, sweetheart.” 

Steve smiles despite his nerves, tries to not imagine what Eddie would look like changing a wheel. 

“Good to know, but no, not quite what I meant.” 

Next to him, Eddie props himself up on his elbow so he can properly look at Steve. 

“What did you mean?” He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind Steve’s ear as he speaks. Steve has to focus harder than he’d like to admit to not get lost in it. Even the smallest touches have an effect on him when it’s Eddie. 

“What if something happens with us?” His voice is small and he can’t look at Eddie, afraid of what his reaction might be. “Remember that thing Mike said about us not really knowing anyone there? Just, what would happen?” 

“Baby,” Eddie gently grabs Steve’s chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting his face towards him. Steve easily follows but closes his eyes. 

“Baby, please look at me,” Eddie’s voice is even softer than before, and Steve has always been weak when it comes to Eddie asking him to do things so he slowly blinks his eyes open.

“There you are,” he smiles, face open and tendrils of hair falling around it. He looks angelic and Steve almost forgets what they are talking about, too overwhelmed by the man next to him. 

Eddie keeps them on track though. 

“Like I told Mike, nothing will happen. We will be fine. But,” he continued before Steve can protest, “if something does, we both have jobs already, we’ve done this right. We will be able to save eventually. Quicker because we’re two people, paying rent and all that stuff on two salaries. If something happens we will have that security.” 

Steve relaxes then and Eddie must see it because he grins and continues, “now if you didn’t have a job then I’d be worried. I’m not cut out for all the responsibility of being the breadwinner, princess.”

Steve groans and shoves Eddie away. Mostly to hide the blush he can feel creeping up his face just from Eddie calling him princess. Judging by the way Eddie cackles he doesn’t have to see Steve blush to know the effect it has on him. 

He reaches out and pulls Steve in against his chest. “Worst case scenario we have to move back. Wayne will probably pretend to be unhappy about it but he’ll let me take over his trailer again. And, I know you have complicated feelings about this house, that your parents are the worst, but you’ll be able to come back if you need to.” 

“Okay,” Steve says, his worries mostly calmed. 

1 day until moving day. 

Steve and Eddie are spending the night apart. Eddie wanting to spend his last night with Wayne and both of them needing to do some last minute packing. 

Just as he finishes closing one of the last boxes the phone rings, he’s a bit confused about who would call him right now. His friends all having seen him earlier in the day to say goodbye. Maybe Eddie needs to double-check what time they decided to leave. 

He picks up but it’s not Eddie, or even one of the kids, who speaks.

“Steven,” his mother's shrill voice crackles on the other end of the line. 

“Hi mom,” he tries to hide his sigh as he speaks, doesn’t have the energy to get into anything with her right now, doesn’t want her to ruin his excitement. 

“I thought you were moving to Chicago alone?” 

His freezes, when he told his parents he was gonna move he didn’t say he was going alone but he also didn’t mention Eddie. He knew they wouldn’t like it, knew it would be easier to let them assume he was going by himself. 

“But I just got off a call with Mrs. Hagan and she told me that Tommy had said you were moving there with- with that cult boy? The one who’s wanted for murder?” 

Steve closes his eyes and this time he doesn’t bother hiding his sigh. Fucking Tommy, he’s always had a big mouth but Steve suspects that this hadn’t been him blabbering without thinking. No, Steve thinks Tommy knew exactly what he was doing telling his mom this piece of information. 

“His name is Eddie, and he was cleared of all charges. The ‘cult’ was literally just a school club.”

“So it’s true? You’re moving with him?” Her voice is sharp and even just hearing it over the phone makes him flinch.

“Yeah, we’re friends and it’s cheaper that way. We got a better apartment because we’re two people with a job each.” It’s such a simplification of the truth it’s almost a lie but Steve doesn’t think this is the time to come out to her. He hopes the ‘better apartment’ comment will calm her, it’s the sort of thing she cares about after all. Not for his safety and comfort though but for how it will reflect on her.

He’s not sure she actually hears him though because she hisses a vicious, “If you move with him you will not be welcome back Steven, this will be the last time we speak.” Before she hangs up on him. 

Steve carefully places the phone back in its cradle, then he’s left standing alone in the living room, both too shocked to move and not really shocked at all. 

He’s not close to his parents. Has slowly been understanding just how much they’ve neglected him. He’s been relieved about moving away, about being in another city where he won’t have to see them when they waltz back into town. But to never speak to them again? That’s a whole different thing. He still hoped that they’d be able to fix their relationship. That him not being dependent on them anymore would allow him to stand up for himself. That everything would get better. Now instead, the thing he thought would allow their relationship to get better is gonna destroy it forever. 

He debates calling Eddie, wants to tell him what his mom just said, wants to hear his voice, wants to let him make it better. He decides against it, he doesn’t wanna ruin Eddie’s last night with Wayne and he’ll see him tomorrow anyway. He can tell him in the car. 

He doesn’t call Robin either, she’ll insist on coming over and he knows she’s on a date with Nancy right now. He doesn’t wanna ruin that either, even though both of them will tell him he’s not, he knows he will be. He goes to bed instead, sleep seems like the best option right now, at least he won’t have to think if he’s asleep.

Moving day.

He ended up not really sleeping at all. Tossing and turning for hours and after finally falling asleep sometime in the early morning he wakes up just hours later from a nightmare. He doesn’t remember what it was about but can feel the lingering panic. He gives up on getting any more sleep, doesn’t wanna risk more nightmares when he’s alone.

He picks at his breakfast, still thrown off from the conversation with his mom the night before and not feeling like eating, so he gives up on that too. He spends the rest of the morning wandering around, touching the walls and the furniture in the house he grew up in. The house he’s been left alone in since he was nine. The house he both hates and loves. The house he will never be allowed to return to after today. 

Then the phone rings again, it’s probably his mom calling to ask if he’s decided to stay he thinks. It’s not, it turns out.

“Hi I’m Patricia, I’m looking for Steve Harrington?” A chipper voice says.

“This is him.”

“Okay well, good. I’m calling about a barista job you’re supposed to start with us next week.” 

“Yeah?” Steve chews on his cheek. 

“I’m so sorry but due to our rent being raised we’re having to do cutbacks. Since you haven’t signed your contract with us yet, it’s the first one to go.” 

“You’re firing me?” Steve asks, it’s not entirely right since he hasn’t started yet but it’s all he can think to say. 

“Essentially,” Patricia responds, “I’m sorry for the short notice.” 

“Okay,” he says, his voice void of emotion, “thank you for calling.” 

He hangs up without waiting for a response, he doesn’t have the energy to be polite. 

He barely has time to let the information sink in before his doorbell rings. Eddie on the other side of the door with a wide grin on his face. 

“Did you oversleep?” He jokes. 

Steve’s confused for a second but then he realizes he’s still in his pajamas, that he’s spent the whole morning wandering around like a ghost in his house not getting any of the things he needed to do done. 

He hasn’t packed the bag of all his essentials. He hasn’t gotten dressed. He hasn’t even brushed his teeth. What he has done is get fired from a job he never even started.

He sees Eddie’s teasing smile, the combination of it and his sudden joblessness tugs at something in his brain, brings back the conversation they had last week.

“Now, if you didn’t have a job then I’d be worried. I’m not cut out for all the responsibility of being the breadwinner princess.”

He doesn’t have a job. He’ll have to live off Eddie and what little savings he has left. Become a responsibility Eddie doesn’t want, a burden probably.

“Worst case scenario we move back”, “you’ll be able to come back if you need to.”

If he leaves now he won’t be able to come back. 

Gareths words play back in his mind too.

“if you have any doubts at all, you can’t go.”, “it will break him more if you go, let him think it’s gonna work and then leave, then if you don’t go at all.”

“I’m not going,” Steve hears himself say as he steps back from the hand Eddie reaches out to him. 

“You’re not-“ Eddie looks so confused. “Like today? Do you need extra time? We can postpone by a couple of days but-“

He’s not getting it. Steve interrupts him, needs to make him understand because he can’t listen to him try to come up with solutions. 

“No, Eddie. I’m not going it all.” 

The words feel wrong in his mouth but he forces them out anyways. 

“What do you mean?” Eddie asks and it fucking ruins him. He feels his carefully blank expression break, despair showing through. 

“I can’t leave Hawkins, the kids,” he has to look away from Eddie as he says this. Knows it’s the only thing Eddie won’t question, knows Eddie thinks he doesn’t mean as much to Steve as the kids do. “They need me.”

“When did you decide you weren’t going?” Eddie asks and Steve didn’t know it was possible but he breaks even more from that, from Eddie not fighting him. 

I didn’t, he thinks, I don’t know why I’m saying this now. If you ask me to stop and just go with you I will. 

“A couple of days ago,” he lies. 

It’s silent then, just their breathing and the distant sound of cars down the street being heard. Eventually, Eddie breaks it.

“Steve?”

His voice cracks in the middle. Steve can hear the plea for him to take it all back and he nearly does, has to swallow the words creeping up his throat before they get out. 

“I’m sorry,” he says instead. He turns around, closing the door behind him. Destroying their future and breaking the last bit of his heart in the process.

He doesn’t get more than two steps into the house before his legs give out beneath him. He stays there, sitting on the floor for what feels like forever. 

After some time he hears a car drive away and he knows Eddie has left. He feels silent tears start streaming down his face that soon turns into sobs. Making him curl in on himself and gasp for air. 

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, crying until he can’t anymore and then just sitting there. But after a while, he’s interrupted by a loud ringing. For the third time in less than twenty-four hours he picks up the god-forsaken phone. 

“Hello?” He rasps, his voice dull and raw from crying.

“Steven. You made the right decision and stayed I take it?” His mother asks.

“Yes.” He says and hangs up on her. 

[wisteriagoesvroom]

foudre sèche - a lestappen oneshot

5.5k words T-rated read on ao3

Summary: Charles is afraid of lightning. He looks for ice in the middle of the night, and finds Max (and maybe answers to some existential answers) instead.

Snippet:

---

“Wel verdomme,” comes a familiar voice. Charles knows this voice. Already careens towards it, a sodden moth to flame. He turns around, and Max snaps into focus. Blue t-shirt bisected by the doorway, face sluiced with yellow lamplight. “I thought it might be a small animal or something, the racket you’re making.”

“No. Just me.”

“What are you doing out here?” 

Charles blinks once, then twice. He is sure that he looks quite ridiculous right now, in a Ferrari t-shirt and his hotel slippers. “The thunder. It’s loud. I woke up.” 

“Ah.”

“I wanted to get ice.”

“You’ll find it over there.”

“Wonderful. Thanks.”

For some reason, neither of them moves. Charles swallows, throat dry. The rain is coming down in sheets now, streaking the windows of Max’s room. From here, the world is half asleep, and Max’s world half open - the other man’s face etched with sleep lines despite the storm outside.

“So it woke you, too.” Charles continues.

Max nods. Then–

“I’ve got ice. You want some?”

Well. Charles wants a lot of things. Wants closure, wants a world championship. Wants the world, the circus he’s chosen, to maybe quiet down for a second, sometimes, so he can think. For every split-second decision and the media onslaught and the internet gossip and everything in-between - he loves it all. Thrives under pressure, even.

But sometimes, he just wants to talk to someone who understands.

“Yeah, sure. Thanks, mate.”

He steps into the room, door clipping shut quietly behind them both.

---

Or, a fic inspired by the thunder from brazil gp '23, except i take freaking ages to write anything

[owlf45]

How is the beginning of the chapter going? You mentioned that's the part you were having issues with

what if.. i just. posted 3k word chapters. maybe even... 5k word chapters. like a normal person. but no, my brain screams. i have to be mentally ill with 20k word chapters or else something terrible will befall me!!!! for some UNGODLY REASON!!!!

[lover-of-mine]

I've seen multiple variations of this particular poll but I can't remember if I've seen this one so, 911 writers that write for buddie:

[mattodore]

60 questions with Theo | playlist, pinterest | ->

1. What’s the one thing they would save in a fire?

Theo is a collector and a bit of a hoarder, so there’d be too much he’d try to save. I really couldn’t just say one thing… but I guess he’d grab his memory journal first.

2. What’s their biggest regret?

Not being good enough. Not being lovable enough. 

3. How would they fare in a zombie apocalypse?

Theo would do very well up until a point. He’s a survivor through and through, but I do think he’d burn out eventually. He could go a few years before breaking down. When he’s no longer able to repress all of his emotions, the feeling of exhaustion would weigh on him. He’d get bitten soon after, almost on purpose.

4. Where do they see themselves in five years? Ten?

Working for his father for a few decades and later taking over his father’s company. He feels a lot of dread and nausea over this.

5. What’s their most useless, weirdest, or least marketable skill?

He can wiggle his ears.

6. What are they like in the bedroom — well-rounded lover or wooden plank?

Theo is… well. More wooden plank than anything. Sorry, Theo. But, well, he normally goes for more aggressive partners who tend to take control anyway. I don’t think Theo really wants to be all there during sex… it’s one of the reasons why he normally uses before finding hook-ups… it makes him a little foggy and loose. I do think, however, that it’s a little bit different when he’s with women. In Theo’s experience, women treat him kinder… which is one of the reasons why he mostly sleeps with men. He wants affection, sure, but he’s also uncomfortable with it… he’s used to pain. With Matthias, however, this does end up changing. Maybe it’s because Matthias is gentle with him unless he’s asked for it to be rough, or because Matthias won’t fuck him when he’s using, but Theo’s more active when having sex with Matthias. Not a lot of talking, but he pulls and pushes and moves how he wants. After a while, he starts taking control and speaking more.

7. Have they committed a crime before? Which one(s)?

Theo uses drugs frequently.

8. If they were an animal, which one would they be? Which one would they think they’d be?

Theo is a pygmy rabbit or a netherland dwarf rabbit (that temperament… yeah). I think Theo would see himself as… well, a goldfish trapped in a bowl, swimming in endless circles and going nowhere.

9. Do they cheat to win or play by the rules?

Theo plays by the rules, generally speaking. If we’re talking sports, though, he does play dirty. He’s very competitive.

10. What do they fantasize about?

Comfort. A room with a door that locks and will keep him safe all night. A bed on the floor. Blinds and curtains on every window. Matthias’s arms wrapped around him so tight he can hardly breathe.

11. Who’s the most important person in their life?

I want to say Matthias, but it’s his parents. It’s hard for Theo to cut them off, even despite the abuse. I don’t think this changes to Matthias for a very, very long time.

12. What’s their ideal vacation like?

Theo can’t even imagine what a vacation would be like. I think even fantasizing about it would stress him out… he’d just think about how far behind it’d put him academically. 

13. What is/was/will be their college major?

Business. Statistics and data. He doesn’t like it.

14. What’s their favorite book genre, if they enjoy reading at all?

Theo doesn’t read for pleasure very often — he has too much reading to do for school — but I think he’s always enjoyed science fiction from a very young age.

15. How would they describe themselves?

Theo wouldn’t know how to describe himself at all. He’d freeze at the question and become despondent.

16. How would others describe them?

Matthias: Lovely beyond words. Intelligent and wry. Shy, pulls away when feelings are too much or too positive. Irresistible. Anxious about things that I could make go away if he'd let me. Lashes out when he gets scared. Strong when he shouldn’t have to be. Soft when he should be hard. Too forgiving to the wrong people. Easily frustrated. Standing on the edge. Endearingly insolent. A mirrored image. Every beautiful thing. Angel. Bambi. Mała myszko.

Everett: Sometimes he makes himself so small… like an injured animal. Jumpy and skittish. But strong, too… impassive when he’s hurt. He’s hiding a lot, but you can see through the cracks sometimes. He needs help, but he won’t let anyone in.

Jordan: Stubborn and headstrong. Naïve or just reckless. Lost. Like a child.

Dutchie: Hard to get to know. Honestly couldn’t tell you much about him despite the years of friendship. Still… you wanna protect him.

Jackson: Fun to be around, y’know… for a rich kid. Troubled, though. Hard to reach. Everyone wants to get to know him better, but… he doesn’t really allow that.

Kavi: Incredibly intelligent but totally aloof. Mysterious. Nose always buried in his books. Cold.

Imani: Too good for Matthias. Sweet. 

17. What’s the most ridiculous thing they’ve ever spent money on?

A large collection of delicate Fenton glass bells and assorted pieces. He collects them and stores them in an antique curio cabinet in his apartment.

18. What’s their dream job?

He doesn’t have a dream job. He just does what he’s told and expected to do, which is to work for his father.

19. How’s their financial situation?

His parents have a lot of money. He doesn’t have a job (honestly… he isn’t permitted one). He’s financially reliant on his parents.

20. Who’s their go-to person for advice?

Theo doesn’t ask for advice from anyone. 

21. What’s one secret of theirs that could potentially ruin a relationship they have?

If he told his parents that he’s bisexual and interested in men they would cut him off or worse…

22. Are they a dog person or a cat person — or something else?

Theo’s never had a pet before, so I don’t even think he himself knows the answer to this. He likes Matthias’s cat well enough, but he’s never been around many dogs to really choose between the two. I think he really likes looking at fish… I’m iffy on if he’d ever actually own one, though.

23. What’s one childhood memory they’ve never forgotten?

CW for child abuse. I’m talking directly about an instance of abuse. This isn’t vague like I usually am when I talk about Theo’s trauma.

Being beaten for tracking mud onto the rug in his father’s office. His father stood him in front of a full length mirror in the hall and made him watch. If he looked away he would be struck again. If his knees buckled he would be hauled back up and hit harder. It felt like it lasted for hours. Theo had been in the gardens beforehand, an umbrella held over him by his au pair. The dwarf sunflowers had bloomed and in his excitement he pulled off a petal and barreled into the home, heading straight to his father to show him how yellow the petals were. His au pair couldn’t keep up with him, and Theo was always forgetting to take off his shoes when he came in from outside. He was very young… maybe five or six.

24. Do they have any phobias?

Open doors. Windows without curtains or blinds. Locks that aren’t sturdy. Mirrors. Older men. Authoritative figures.

25. What’s one thing they’re utterly incapable of doing without the help of someone else?

Theo is actually very independent. It’s hard to think of anything he couldn’t do himself, because he’s always been on his own, really. 

26. What’s one topic they could never get tired of researching or learning about?

Theo is very intelligent, but he’s not actually that interested in learning. He lost that drive and passion at a relatively young age. He’s no longer curious. Hm… I think he might get a little thrill from learning information that’s just… completely useless. Like, think dumb trivia. Still, though… knowledge is synonymous with pressure to him. It makes him feel sick.

27. What’s their favorite genre of music?

Theo will listen to anything. I don’t think he necessarily has a favorite genre. Hm… I think he likes lullabies, though. Quiet music. Calming.

28. Who, if anyone, do they dislike most?

Himself.

29. If they could change one thing about themselves, physical or otherwise, what would it be?

Whatever would make his parents happy with him. Whatever could make him better suited for the part they want him to play.

30. What’s their political stance?

Theo is whatever his parents want him to be on paper, but politically he’s… a liberal, I guess. His party friends, in general, lean left… and they’re definitely influencing him some. However, I don’t think he has the backbone to really go any which way. 

This question is a little hard for me to answer with some of the echthroi cast because they’re rich at the end of the day, ya’ know? Materially, politics don’t touch them.

31. Are they religious?

No.

32. What were they like in high school?

He was all over the place. Quiet and then having these uncontrollable outbursts. Fearful. Frequently pulled aside by teachers, being asked pointed questions. Standoffish. Flinching when touched. Far away from the other students. At the same time he was scared to be alone, though, so he would blend in with the crowds when he could. At the summer school he was sent to yearly, the outbursts always got worse.

33. What’s the worst injury they’ve ever had?

I’m going to choose not to answer this one.

34. Do they work to live or live to work?

Live to work. He doesn’t know who he’d be without it. It’s what he was molded for.

35. Do/did they want children?

No. Theo is scared of even the idea of having children.

36. What’s their favorite thing about themselves?

Nothing? I don’t know. Theo… really doesn’t like himself. Maybe his hair, though… his pierced ears… the things he feels give him autonomy.

37. What’s their favorite thing about their significant other, if they have one?

Hm. I think Theo really likes how big Matthias is. He towers over people and is visibly strong. I think that offers Theo a lot of comfort. He feels safe when Matthias is around. Matthias is also very protective, so… it makes it easier for Theo to face his fears. There’s a reliability to Matthias that Theo needs. Matthias cares about him and tells him frequently how much he loves him… Theo’s never had that before. It makes him feel lighter.

38. If they hear something go bump in the night, do they get out of bed to check it out or do they stay put?

Theo is paralyzed but his mind shoots off at a mile a minute. He’s too terrified to do anything.

39. What’s one skill they wish they had?

A photographic memory. It would make his life a lot easier with regards to his education. He’s never thought about the downsides to this… especially as someone with drug and trauma related memory loss…

40. What do other people find annoying about them, if anything?

He can be very cutting and dismissive. He's judgmental, too. First impressions are everything if you want him to even be cordial with you.

41. What do other people love most about them?

He has this magnetism to him that you can’t really put your finger on. I think it’s a combination of how handsome he is alongside the way he keeps himself almost entirely separate from everyone else… you always want what you can’t have. 

42. What’s the typical first impression after meeting this person?

That he’s very prickly or just cold… restless… doleful. 

43. What do people notice first about them, as far as their appearance goes?

The repressed anger and sorrow in his eyes. Then, maybe, all those beauty marks. The elegant line of his body.

44. Does this person try their best to be honest or are they not above lying to get their way?

Theo isn’t a very good liar, but he’s very good at prevarication and skirts the truth with ease. 

45. What kind of movies do they like?

Theo doesn’t have time for movies. Regardless… I think he’d like horror movies. I think… Theo would find a lot of comfort in watching horrible things happen to fictional people. He could fictionalize the abuse he’s faced that way.

46. Are they the life of the party or a wallflower?

I’d say he’s a bit of a mixed bag on this one. If he’s using, he’s the life of the party. If he’s sober, he’s a wallflower. Either way, though, people will approach him to strike up conversation and ask him to dance.

47. Are they an early bird or a night owl?

Early bird. Theo doesn’t actually like the night. Does he still party until three in the morning? Yeah. But… well. Theo tortures himself in many different ways, doesn’t he?

48. Are they a good kisser?

He’s not bad at it, but he never really kissed anyone until Matthias. So… he’s not amazing at it or anything. He’s learning as he goes. 

49. Do they think about what they wear or do they throw on whatever they find first?

Theo definitely plans out outfits. I think he has three separate lives he’s living and three separate fashion senses to suit each of them. He dresses very typically masculine and rich when he’s with his parents. He dresses down for university but incorporates some elements of his nightlife wardrobe on occasion. He experiments more with sexuality and gender for his nightlife fashion… I think this is what he would prefer to wear all the time, only with a less dramatic flare.

50. Do they have any insecurities?

I could be contracted to write a trilogy about Theo’s insecurities and would meet every deadline with ease. The underlying root of all of his insecurities is his belief that he’s unlovable and dirty, though. Let’s keep it simple with that.

51. What is their favorite thing about themselves?

A repeat question. I’ll add onto my last answer, though, to say that I think he has some days where he feels really good about his appearance and some days he doesn’t. He’s temperamental.

52. What’s their diet like?

Theo eats whatever is made for him and will finish all of it even if he dislikes it or isn’t hungry. He doesn’t have any favorites, but he really dislikes candy or sweets.

53. If they could only eat one thing for the rest of their life, what would it be?

Again, he doesn’t have anything in particular he likes. I guess something easy to eat would be the answer… maybe mangos.

54. What’s their body count, if they have one?

I think he has sex very regularly… on average I'd say once a week unless he’s studying too intensely for a break or his last experience was a really rough one. He doesn’t always sleep with new people, either. The faces blur, though. Hm. I can’t say an exact number and Theo wouldn’t be counting anyway.

55. Who do they look up to most?

The blurry image he has of his childhood au pair.

56. What do they smell like?

Copying things I’ve mentioned previously here… Theo smells very clean. Think green and fresh… a little powdery. He doesn’t often wear cologne, so he mostly just smells like soap — not even his body lotion is scented. He doesn’t like strong or chemical smells on himself. As a signature he’d wear a spritz of Francis Kurkdjian’s Aqua Universalis. However, Theo will also wear Gucci’s Tears from the Moon, which was a gift from his mother, if he’s at family events — it’s outside of his preference but that’s neither here nor there.

57. How do they feel about drugs?

…Theo is an addict. He doesn’t get clean for a few years and relapses multiple times. He relies on them but he also wishes he’d never touched them sometimes, usually when the guilt floods in after he’s sobered up from one of the outbursts he’s had because of them.

58. If they could change one thing about their life, what would it be?

Hm. I’m going to bow out of answering this question as well.

59. What motivates them?

A desire for recognition, acceptance, and love.

60. What are some of their simple pleasures?

Collecting knickknacks. Cold showers. The wind whipping through his hair when he sticks his head out of the window of a car. The sound of the windchimes outside his bedroom window. Odious purring on his chest. Matthias’s voice in his ear.

[valerie4ever]

potential fic conceptttt what are our thoughts <3 🫦

[theangrypomeranian]

Can I hear more about the tinimmy/zekina infidelity au??

so the basic gist of the idea is that Jimmy Jr. and Tina are married but after not even a year of marriage he tells her that he's gay and they need to get a divorce. Zeke comes up to comfort Tina and we find out that they slept together before when she and JJ were dating. this is one that i'm really excited to write but very worried that it's going to upset people lol anywhere here's a lil exert:

How had her life come to this? She finished up and got out, wallowing in her misery as she toweled off. As she was drying her hair, though, a familiar sound came from outside. Almost…too familiar… Tina threw on a tank top and stretchy shorts, then grabbed her glasses before hurrying out of the bathroom. She made her way over to the nearest window and looked out, her eyes wide and blinking. An old faded red truck pulled up into the driveway and parked. The driver’s door opened and out stepped a tall man with curly hair piled up on the top of his head. He locked the door before shoving his hands in the pockets of his jean jacket and heading for the front door. No way… Tina ran for the stairs, nearly tripping in her rush to get down them. She heard the front door open and Jimmy’s voice greeted their guest. “Hey–” Then came a voice that she hadn’t heard since their wedding, low and gravely and sending warm shivers down her spine. “I ain’t here for you.” She raced into the front hall, almost falling over her own feet as she came to a sudden halt. Her heart pounded against her ribcage and she could feel her pulse in her neck, and she stared up at that familiar face that had always felt like coming home. Zeke’s dark eyes spotted her and his tense expression immediately softened. He took one step towards her, his arms opening. “T-Bird.” Tina didn’t think. She just launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and slamming her body against his. Thankfully he was still solid with muscle, able to stand his ground and not even stumble against her assault. His arms wrapped around her body and suddenly she was crying against his chest, feeling safe and secure for the first time in what now felt like years.

[nyoomfruits]

not each of my lestappen week fics just being longer then the previous one

[sochilll]

sometimes you don’t write for 2 months and then you write 3100 words of a completely new project in one sitting. u know how it is with writing.

[ladespeinada]

am i, a retired fanfic veteran, once again writing fanfic? and it’s for the bear? yes, apparently. i’m even working on a damn playlist 😭 it's not even like, fully in theme with the fic itself, it's just songs that feel important at the moment (this fanvid was the starting inspiration). missing a few songs i'm not quite sure should be included, and also this remix!!!

[x-pair-o-dice-x]

eyyy, guess who’s been writing something for the first time in a while !!!

[kelpiemomma]

It was a knock at the door that pulled Ingo out of a deep slumber.

It was not frantic, not a sound that had him leaping out of his bed in a panic, but it was firm. Insistent. It compelled him to emerge from the warm comfort of his blankets, piled and wrapped atop of a straw bed to block the chill of the night, and to the thin wooden door blocking the chill and snow. He stumbled in the dark, tripping over smoothed wood and catching himself on the wall of the hut. His hand grasped the coat he’d hung up before crawling into bed and he pulled it down, wrapping it around himself like a protective cloak. Still with no light, and no real thought process beyond answer the door, Ingo pulled it open.

“How may I-” he began the sentence through a yawn, cut off midway by the sight before him.

The ground was lit by the moon in the sky, bright enough that Ingo could clearly see the person who had woken him up. It was impossible to determine an immediate gender so Ingo didn’t even bother to try. Whoever they were had long hair, a light gold that nearly appeared white in the moonlight. They had a long, stern nose with a flat bridge. Their gaze was flat and serious, lips thin as they stared down - very, very far down - at Ingo. At full height Ingo was a few inches taller than those around him within the village, but this person made him feel like a child. If his head came up to their chest he would be surprised. They were dressed in what appeared to be an old-fashioned white robe, the wind carrying across the valley lifting it gently before placing it back down as though it was the most delicate fabric. Intricate golden details laced the trim. Perhaps it was the sleep but it seemed to Ingo’s mind that the trim was… moving. One moment he thought there was a sun rising over a valley, and in the next it seemed to be some sort of battle between two pokemon. Hands appeared and disappeared, a wave of appraisal and worship before sinking down into a wave.

Rubbing his eyes to clear the odd sight - and upon second glance, the delicate lace no longer slipped through design - Ingo took a second look. Their height had not decreased at all but he was able to notice something new. Something that, somehow, he had missed in his awed staring. The person’s arms were wrapped around their chest in a cradling position. A blanket, the color of which he’d never seen before, was swaddled tightly. Though the hold was confident there was also a looseness to it that sent alarm bells ringing through Ingo’s mind, waking him up further. As he opened his mouth to speak the bundle moved, a tiny fist raising itself from the blanket and pounding on the person’s chest. Barely a moment later, a piercing cry erupted from the blanket as well. The stranger did not blink. They barely seemed to notice the noise at all. Their hooded green gaze had not left Ingo’s face.

“Is that- are you carrying a child? Are you hurt? Are they hurt? Here, please- come inside, I’ll get a fire started! It’s awfully cold tonight; a baby shouldn’t be out in this weather.” Ingo reached out impulsively, grasping for a sleeve and ending up with an arm ful of wailing baby. He pulled the child close to his chest in surprise, looking down into light eyes full of tears. The infant hiccuped through their tears, arm waving furiously. He grasped the limb gently to protect his own face only for his hand to be pulled down towards the babe’s face. They immediately began gnawing on his fingers, the wail dying gradually as they found something to occupy themself. The cold was forgotten.

Something clicked into place.

“Warden Ingo,” the person before him finally spoke, pulling Ingo’s gaze reluctantly away from the baby, “I leave her to you.”

“I’m sorry? I’m- I’m not a Warden? I'm just- a guest. Why are you- are you leaving? Are you leaving your child behind?” Anger rose in his chest. Was this infant being abandoned? Directly into his arms?!

“She was never meant to join this world. She was not part of my plan. I heard the world cry and there she was.”

“Do you need help? If you can’t raise her on your own you may join the village, I’m sure. They would be willing to take in a parent in need!”

“I am not her parent. I brought her into existence but she is not mine. She never has been and never will be.” There was a darkness in the person’s eyes, a bitter sort of anger laying under those words. They were sharp, pointed enough that the baby wiggled in Ingo’s arms and let out a high-pitched whine. Immediately he rubbed their - her? - cheek, the whine slipping into a gurgle. His fingers were pulled and tugged on until the baby managed to slip a fingertip into their mouth, chewing on his limb. Ingo’s gaze never left the person’s before him, though they finally dared to look away from him. Their flat expression became something like a sneer as they looked down before it was schooled into disinterest once again.

“As you were never meant to be here either, I leave her to you. I would bid that you take care not to lose her and do not tell others where she came from.” The person slid their hands into their sleeves, the gold filigree flashing blindingly bright as the sleeves made contact. Ingo turned away to block his and the child’s eyes. “Not even I know where she may end up next time.”

When the light faded and Ingo could look again the person was gone. He took several steps forward, looking around to try and see where they had vanished to, but not even the snow gave a hint at what direction the person had gone in. Only the moon looked down at Ingo, the light solemn and soft. He turned his gaze to the infant in his arms; cheeks were being carelessly bitten by the wind and turning red, eyes wrinkled up in discomfort and watery, but his finger remained chewed on. Despite the infant’s abandonment, they didn’t appear disturbed. In fact they appeared… content. As the chill nipped insistently at Ingo’s bare feet, driving him back into his hut to pull the door shut, so did the baby’s eyes. They let out a gurgling noise, grip tightening on Ingo’s fingers, and then they began to snore.

Ingo rubbed his face, trudging back towards his bed. There were things he needed to do and yet- something pushed him towards the blankets. He pushed them to the side, keeping the infant in one hand while removing his long coat. Using it and a blanket he created a nest to cradle the little one in. As he set the child inside, covering them with one of his sleeves, they sighed in what he could have mistaken for content. One chubby fist grabbed the wristband of his coat while the other migrated to the infant’s mouth, thumb settling into place as though it belonged there. Half awake and half aware, Ingo prepared his own blankets upon his straw bed. He put the infant between himself and the wall, and then hesitated before moving them between himself and the opening of the room. Then he hesitated again- the wall would be colder, but perhaps safer, right? If the baby was facing the room it might roll out of the blankets and fall off the bed. It wasn’t a long drop by any means, but still! He swapped the child to the other side once again, wrapping another blanket around and over the nest, and then laid there.

What had just happened? Where had the baby’s parent gone? They had said they weren’t, but where else could it have come from? Had it been stolen?

Despite his concern that these thoughts would keep him awake, another force pulled Ingo’s eyelids down and he drifted off to sleep.

It was a knock at the door that pulled Ingo out of slumber.

The sound was quick and heavy, quickly joined by a voice.

“Mr Ingo! Are you awake?”

It was not so much a genuine question as much as it was a wakeup call. One that he was used to at this point. Several months among the Pearl Clan had helped him come to understand not only their language but their habits- he was needed, and so they were waking him.

Sunlight warmed the wooden floor as Ingo slipped out from under his blankets and padded across the floor. His head felt fuzzy and he felt a little confused; his jacket was not hanging up where he had put it the night before and there was a small snowdrift on one side of the door. He looked at it curiously, trying to figure out where it had come from, as he opened the door.

Irida stood before him, her gaze slightly narrowed and her brows drawn tight. Rather than angry he could see the stress in her expression, the way she held herself. He wondered what had happened.

“Good morning, Miss Irida.” ingo said. “How may I be of help?”

“Mr Ingo, it’s almost afternoon. We had a large amount of snowfall last night and need your help. Since you’re an early riser we thought you had already gone out- are you ill to have slept so long?” She asked. “We can’t have anyone else getting sick not so soon after the last wave!”

Ingo blinked, shaking his head and raising a hand. He had arrived, lost and freezing, to the Pearl Clan at the tail end of a lingering sickness. Though he had been cold he had also been healthy and immediately stepped in to help the recovering clan; distrustful members had warily guided the confused man around the territory to gather berries and check game. They doubted his memory loss but couldn’t afford to deny his aid. To many he had been a necessary evil. To some, he still was. To Irida, who was still young but in the running to lead the clan, he was a goal.

“I apologize, Miss Irida. I woke up last night after having a very strange dream. It must have taken me a while to fall asleep, if I indeed slept until noon. I will get ready to help.”

He went to close the door so he could dress, sighing out, “the moon was so bright it seemed to be daylight.”

Irida shot him a look.

“Mr Ingo, there was no moon at all last night.” She stated. “It’s why we didn’t see the amount of snow until this morning, despite the watch.”

Ingo froze.

“No,” he said slowly, “no, there very much was a moon. In fact, there was a person as well. They-”

From his bed came a piercing wail. Ingo froze and Irida jumped.

“Mr Ingo,” she said after a moment of listening to the crying child, “is that a baby?”

Pulled out of his panic by her words Ingo rushed to pick the child up. A terrible smell greeted his nose as he removed the baby from the nest of blankets and coat.

“There was a moon,” he said as he stared at the crying child, “it was full and bright, and-”

“Moon later, baby now.” Irida said, taking the infant from his hands. She paused, and then glared at him. “Baby explanation later, baby cleanup now. Where do you keep your changing supplies?”

“She was a… a gift,” Ingo replied dumbly; somehow it felt like the right description, “I have nothing.”

Irida stared at him in complete confusion and irritation before she sighed.

“Baby explanation later, finding the baby new nappies and…. ergh, new clothes now.” She exited his hut with the wailing child. As if pulled by a string Ingo followed, barely slipping his shoes on before stumbling into the soft snow that had yet to be cleared from in front of his home. He ignored the stares as Irida marched - baby held in front of her like a shield - to the home of Calaba. The old Warden was opening the door before they were within ten feet of the house, watching them approach with barely concealed displeasure. She allowed them in with pursed lips and the shake of her head.

Ingo dreaded to know what she was thinking.

As he watched Irida strip the infant to clean her, all the while narrating what she was doing as if Ingo was paying that much attention, one set of words caught his ear.

“I’m sorry, Miss Irida, I am- I am a little… a little off course. Could you please repeat yourself?”

She shot him an irritated glare over her shoulder. This one was truly angry with him; he would be sure to get an earful later. Though she was mostly fair she was also a hot-headed young woman determined to become the next lead of the clan. It was possible this had just hurt her chances.

“I said, Mr Ingo, what’s her name?”

“Her name?” He repeated, “I- I don’t know. They… she didn’t come with a name.”

“They normally don’t,” Calaba snapped from behind him, “which is why their parents give them one. She may be a little young for a name yet- she doesn’t look that old. You moved awfully quick Mr Ingo.” Her tone left no room for doubt- she believed that he had impregnated someone and left them, only for them to return the favor and deposit the baby on his doorstep.

“Warden Calaba, she’s not mine. Someone- someone stopped by last night, in the full moon, and gave her to me. Surely one of the watch noticed them!” He turned to her in an attempt to defend himself. Calaba snorted and crossed her arms.

“It was a new moon, Mr Ingo. There was no light at all. Perhaps you made your own light- did you track someone down and take their child?”

“I would never! That is- that is a horrible thing to insinuate, Warden Calaba, regardless of your affection or lack thereof for me! There were no footprints outside my door, were there? I couldn’t have gone anywhere!” He spun to face Irida. She was tying a new diaper onto the baby, ignoring the wails in her ears.

“With the amount of snowfall last night, footsteps would’ve disappeared quickly Mr Ingo.” She answered sorrowfully. She was loathe to agree with Warden Calaba and her harsh tongue.

“Do you believe I stole this child?” Ingo demanded of her.

Irida finished wrapping the infant, handing her back to Ingo. Only once she was in his arms, face buried in his chest as she gripped his tunic tightly with chubby fists, did she quiet. WIth her wails ceased the silence prevailed in the room as Ingo stared at Irida, who looked between himself and Calaba. If the warden didn’t like her, her chances of achieving leadership would drop even further.

“No,” Irida finally said, “in all the time you’ve been here, you haven’t come off as that sort of person, regardless of how others have seen you. But the baby-”

“I don’t know where she came from. I awoke to a knock at my door last night and someone gave her to me. They did not introduce themselves, only told me not to lose her, and then they left. I thought it was a dream until she began to cry after soiling herself.” Ingo said firmly. He turned to look at Calaba as he spoke, meeting her impassive gaze firmly. There was a tense moment until she grunted and looked away.

“So a mystery person dropped a baby onto a stranger’s lap.” She muttered.

“I’ll organize a search party,” Irida said, “a couple. If they were around last night then they must be nearby- the snow was falling much too heavy and quickly for them to have gotten far.”

Ingo understood the insinuation- they were, most likely, looking for a corpse.

“Until then… we should find her a home with a wetnurse, and-” Irida went to take the child from Ingo despite having just deposited her back into his arms. He tightened his grip just as Irida’s hands clasped onto her sides. Feeling the other touch the baby began to scream. Irida immediately stepped back, covering her ears, while Ingo turned away and rocked from side to side. She quieted after a few moments, gurgling quietly against his chest once more. Ingo and Irida looked at each other. She reached out to take the baby again. Ingo didn’t tighten his grasp this time, slightly holding her away from him, but as soon as Irida touched her she opened her mouth to scream once more.

Irida stepped back, expression turning to confusion. “She won’t let me take her.” She said.

Calaba scoffed.

“She’s an infant. Give her here, she’ll quiet down if you just hold her a moment.” She demanded.

Ingo reluctantly handed the baby over. Just like with Irida, as soon as Calaba had a hold of her she began to shriek her displeasure. Calaba pulled her close and began to rock her as Ingo had, but as the minutes passed on the shrieking turned to sobs. Like the night before the baby raised her fists, pounding on Calaba’s chest to express her displeasure. One of them must have nailed the older woman well because she let out a surprised breath, her arms’ hold weakening momentarily. Ingo was there in a heartbeat, reaching out to take hold of the girl.

Once she was back in his arms she began to grow quiet, wrapping a hand in his tunic as her sobs turned to crying, turning to whines that quieted into hiccuping breaths as he rocked her. Her teary eyes met his gaze with an unexpected intensity. She held onto his tunic in a way that, were she an adult, Ingo would believe to be some desperation. Don’t let me go, she seemed to be begging, don’t let them take me away!

I won’t, Ingo thought back, I won’t let them take you. I promise.

“Well,” Irida said after a moment, “I believe that she wishes to stay with Ingo.”

“Hmph. She’ll still need a wetnurse unless he’s hiding milk behind that tunic.” Calaba said the words dismissively. “He’ll also need to learn how to change her, and get her clothes, and-”

“Akari.” Ingo said, breaking the sentence.

“Who? We don’t have an Akari in the village. Is that her mother?” Irida asked, approaching. She kept a distance from the baby, preparing to step back in case the screaming started once more. Wrapped in Ingo’s arms the baby met her gaze placidly.

“No. It’s… her. Her name.” Ingo trailed a finger from the girl’s forehead, where small wisps of dark hair were already threatening to fall in her face, down over her nose. She smiled and giggled, wrapping a hand around Ingo’s finger and shaking it. Ingo couldn’t help but think she must feel excited.

“Her name is Akari.”

[zukkaoru]

🍃enough to feel free (a promise of hope)🍃

Hesitantly, he slides his glasses on. There’s no immediate rush of information here in the agency headquarters; Ranpo knows all he needs to about this place because he’s investigated this building and everything in it many times before. Still, he fixes his gaze on Fukuzawa, attempting to scrutinize him in a way he hasn’t yet.

He imagines he tells Fukuzawa that he doesn’t want to be called boy—doesn’t want to be seen as one, doesn’t particularly even feel like he is one. The Fukuzawa in his mind furrows his eyebrows and asks Ranpo what he means, asks him to explain because, as usual, what is clear to Ranpo is not so easily understandable to him, and Ranpo—

—doesn’t have an explanation.

He never has, which is perhaps why no one has ever believed him when he’s admitted he doesn’t feel like he’s a boy.

or: ranpo wishes the rest of the world could see gender in the same way he does

🍃 7.2k words || ranpo-centric 🍃

[midnightwind]

started a short fic with an enby Tav about how people call Astarion spawn and leech instead of by name a lot because I got Feelings over it