#there's a lot of cursing in these two stories. They use profanity like adjectives

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

WIP Wednesday

Subconscious (Steve's Story)

Summary: Steddie Canon compliant/fix-it fic paired with a corresponding story in Eddie's POV, each chapter happens in tandem with the other. No matter what he does, no matter who he is with or what is happening in the aftermath of their failed battle with Vecna – Steve Harrington can't stop thinking about Eddie Munson. He's even begun to see him in his dreams…

(unbeta'd snippet from Chapter 01. Steve has taken it upon himself to keep track of all of the members of their group as they recover in the aftermath of Vecna, but Dustin is the one that really needs him. He's taking it the hardest out of all of them, and trying to hide it in a way that isn't quite working. After Eddie's death he can usually only be found at his house, in his basement, which at least means Steve always knows where to find him. But it's getting to the point that there needs to be an intervention.)

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Two months and nine days after they tried and failed to kill Vecna, Steve Harrington found himself waving marrily to Ms. Henderson as he dragged her son out of their house by his ear. There was lots of loud complaining from the high school sophomore (or soon to be, after this summer. Ask Steve again how old he feels?) so they didn’t get to exchange words of parting. Dustin had that covered in spades.

“Steve! SteveSteve sonofabitch that hurts STEVE! Let me go!” He only obliges after he’s opened the car door and deposited the surly teenager in the passenger seat of his BMW. 

“You can scowl at me all you want, but family dinner means family dinner so you’re going,” he reprimands, pointing at him through the window before rounding the vehicle and sliding back behind the wheel. “Next time it would have been Hop coming to drag your ass out of your basement, not me.” And no one wanted that. 

Joyce Byers was hosting frequent dinners where all the kids could be in one place, and the newer adults, as well as themselves. All the people who understand what’s really going on in town. It was just as much to keep tabs on the situation as well as making sure everyone in their inner circle still has their head above water. Vecna/Henry/One is not dead. Steve has wrapped his head around this fact, despite the elaborate backstory of how Vecna came to be. He got his four sacrifices, even though Max lived through the ordeal, and the portal was open. The Upside Down was spilling into their own world. But other than that, there have been no moves made. No creatures hunting Hawkins townspeople in the dead of night. (Yet.) But they were not going to be caught unaware, not this time. 

However, wrangling a bunch of teenagers who are possibly presenting signs of early onset PTSD was a whole other ballgame that needed addressing. The group as a whole was a mess at the best of times, but they were able to band together and felt stronger when all in the same location. So if Steve’s sole job today was to get Dustin within shouting distance of his friends, albeit against his will, then by God he was going to do it. 

The mere fact he had to drag Dustin to the Byer’s place was in and of itself a red flag. It wasn’t like him in the slightest. 

He’d left Robin with Joyce to help get things set up, for this very reason. Steve and Dustin needed to talk. They’ve done a lot of talking over the past two months, but this was starting to reach a worrying level of solitude. 

“Dude, you have to talk to me,” Steve tells him, after five minutes of straight silence. Not even the radio on in the background. “You can’t keep doing this. Trust me.” He puts emphasis in his tone and in the solid hand on his shoulder that he can relate, that he’s been here before, through slightly different circumstances. “If you keep ignoring your friends, eventually… they stop calling.” For him, it had been on purpose. Leaving Tommy and Carol and ‘King Steve’ in the dusty halls of Hawkins High where they belonged. But Dustin was doing it out of grief, and he needed those other knuckleheads. They needed each other. 

“They wouldn’t do that,” Dustin mumbles, but his threat had gotten the kid’s attention. 

Steve sighs. “No, they wouldn’t, and I wouldn’t let them. But hiding in your room listening to metal and not talking to your friends is not how you’re going to get through this.” 

“That’s not all I’m doing,” he defends. 

“Oh really?” Steve challenges. Drawing Dustin out of his shell with baited words like it was his day job, it worked every time. “What, pray tell, is there to do in that basement besides ruin your eardrums and make illegal spy radios?” 

“Hey, we’re going to need those radio frequencies! Someone has to get them set up and ready before –” 

The car goes quiet, and Steve finds it suddenly hard to swallow. And Dustin, never one to leave the unspoken alone, finishes his sentence with a dead-like tone that breaks Steve’s heart to fucking pieces. 

“ – before next time.” 

Because of course there will be a next time, this isn’t over. They all know it. 

God damn it all. These kids shouldn’t be living their lives with the next battle constantly hanging over their heads. It isn’t fair. Steve leans his elbow against the open car window and rubs at the blossoming headache behind his eyes. They are kids… just fucking kids. They shouldn’t be mourning dead friends and preparing for war. It isn’t right.

“Steve?” Dustin breaks the quiet, because even when he is trying to be the adult Steve still can’t get his shit together. “I’m trying. I am.”

“I know you are, buddy,” he says quietly, and the sentiment reflects in his own voice. They’re all trying.

“I just can’t pretend that we aren’t waiting for the other shoe to drop. Vecna is still out there, the portal is still open.” He’s looking down at his knees instead of out the window. From pretty much anywhere in Hawkins they could see the eerie glow of downtown, hear the helicopters in the distance, taste the stale air as the dark particles drift further and further on the wind with each passing day. “And… I still miss him.” 

Eddie.

Dustin had watched Eddie die. A friend and person he looked up to, a hero in his eyes before he ever became one in that field, and he’d died right there next to him. Even without the threat of the next big one coming at them – that isn’t an easy thing to forget. It’s not something he can just shake off. 

And Steve wouldn’t ask it of him, no one had any right to.

“I do, too.” It’s the first time he’s even admitted it to himself, and this time when he reaches over and puts a hand on Dustin’s shoulder the quiet isn’t so tense or full of resentment. “I really do.” 

Not in the same way; they had all built different friendships, and seen different sides of each other, during the days they fought Vecna’s curse. But those few days felt the length of a lifetime, and Steve mourns the loss of the people that should be there with them every time Joyce hosts dinner. As if he'd actually known them all his life.

Maybe that’s why Dustin doesn’t want to go. 

“We aren’t the only ones,” Steve tells him, assures and holds tight to the fact it’s true. It should be true. He and Dustin aren’t the only ones that miss Eddie. Sure, it’s hard with Max in a coma and the pure relief at seeing Hopper alive after having a fucking funeral for him the year prior. It’s a tangled web of feelings that Steve isn’t the best at navigating, but he’s good at being there. He’s good at standing in one place and holding anyone up that can’t seem to find their footing. Like now. “Talk to them tonight. You’ll see.” 

“Will hadn’t even met Eddie before,” Dustin reminds him, sadly.

“Will would have loved Eddie.” Steve gives him a look when it’s safe to do so, a long stretch of road that’s a mere block from the Byer’s house. “I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to listen.” And that gets a small smile out of the kid beside him, thinking about all the stories that would catch Will’s attention and remind the others of the good times. That’s what they should be remembering about Eddie, their dumb Dungeons and Dragons games. Not the demobats. Not the wanted posters. All the trash people say to this day. That wasn’t the Eddie Munson they knew.

His memory deserves better than that.

--

tbc

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Series Snippets: - Dreamwalker (Eddie’s Story) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) - Subconscious (Steve’s Story) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

[lorei-writes]

Masamune x Polish!MC

Thanks a lot to @datenoriko​ for suggesting this and for @nad-zeta​ for writing hers (VERY INSPIRING, SERIOUSLY, GO CHECK THOSE OUT) headcanons :D Here’s my version. I wrote for Polish MC in particular, because I didn’t want to be disrespectful and there’s a lot of historical nuance that I could butcher otherwise.

[Note from future Lorei: This is honestly very stupid and I cannot believe I didn’t write it when I was 15, geez.]

Content Warnings: profanities, kidnapping, pain, injuries

Background information & notes:

Polish-Lithuanian commonwealth was partitioned by Habsburg Austria, Kingdom of Prussia and Russian Empire. As the result of annexations, the country disappeared from the world maps for 123 years. I will not go into detail about how the situation of Polish people was different in each of the parts, since that’s besides the point, but well - keep in mind that it did differ greatly. One can argue that the marks of it are still visible today, both in infrastructure, architecture and language. 

I was born in the South-Eastern region of Poland and as such, that’s where I’d like my MC to be brought up. 

MC is in no way representative of how each and every woman from Poland is. I tried to write her based on the women of my family, my friends, classmates, basically - the people I’ve seen and spent my time with. 

I will not include anything religion-related, although it is a thing that’s present in lives of everybody (even atheists) here (to be more precise, Catholicism). Why? Because it is a very controversial topic, one of huge complexity.

... There will be profanities, because I love my Polish swearwords - and CURSE YOU ENGLISH. WHEN I YELL THE CURSE I WANT TO SOUND LIKE A FREAKING FERAL ANIMAL

Broken English in italics = broken Japanese.

There will be a dictionary at the end, so don’t worry. 

Masamune

Upon meeting her, he did not understand anything she said - well, none of them did. However, she did rescue lord Nobunaga - a funnily dressed foreigner that seemingly didn’t speak Japanese couldn’t be that bad, could she?

Yet she still was thrown into the dungeon. In his mind, that was the perfect opportunity to investigate on his own. 

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Masamune sneaked into her cell. Soon, his blade was on her throat.  “ Who are...?” he started, but was instantly cut off by her yelling: “ Czy was tu wszystkich kurwa do reszty pojebało?!” He stood there, staring at her. Seeing his confusion, she pointed at him and then tapped on her temple a couple of times, an unimpressed look on her face. 

Was she suggesting that he was insane? Hah, that certainly was some lass. He laughed loudly and gestured for her to follow him.

Well, it certainly took some explaining, but in the end, she got a job as one of the maids. After all, you hardly need to understand language to sweep the floors and do the cleaning. 

However, she... Didn’t exactly fit in. Not just because of her weird mother tongue - she was taller than most women and not exactly petite. Appearance wise, she resembled the Portuguese missionaries, but that wasn’t exactly this either. 

Masamune came around to “bother” her at times. To his surprise, she started to picking up the basic words by herself. Sometimes, she’d point an object, say something (presumably the name of it in her language) and wait for him to do so as well.

 One day, she did just that while cleaning the floor of a veranda.  “ Chrząszcz.” It took a second to register. Was that really a word? “ Chrząszcz,” she repeated, staring at him. Right, he had to reply, otherwise she’d never stop. “ A beetle.” 

Later that day, he tried to pronounce the word. He couldn’t do it. Actually, he started thinking that she was making it all up. 

That, however, changed once he heard her sing. Unaware of his presence, she continued working, the song filling the air: “Gdy swe oczy otworzyłem Wielki żal ogarnął mnie Po policzkach łzy spłynęły Zrozumiałem wtedy, że Czarny chleb i czarna kawa Opętani samotnością Myślą swą szukają szczęścia Które zwie się wolnością”

To his delight, she started speaking broken Japanese within a couple of months of her stay at Azuchi. Finally, he could satiate his curiosity - or at least he planned to. 

She went out to do the shopping in the afternoon, but didn’t return after the dusk. Thinking something bad must have happened to her, Nobunaga issued a search. Masamune volunteered to lead it. 

She woke up with a start, her head throbbing. She looked around - where was she? It seemed to be a tiny hut of sorts. She got up, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever was happening outside through the crack in the door. A man was guarding it. Did she hear a river? Whinny of horses? She had to escape - she search for cracks in the walls, until she found one. She recognized that armour. They were looking for her! She had to make some noise! 

She yanked at the door, but it didn’t want to give out. She banged at it with her fists, yelling: “ Tutaj! Ratunku!”

The kidnapper didn’t understand the weird language, so he didn’t react at first. However, once the heard the approaching horses, he decided he had to silence her. He got inside the hut and gripped her by the wrists, telling her to shut up.

To his surprise, she struggled against him, breaking free of his hold on her.

He pinned her arms to the wall of the hut, threatening to hurt her if she even squeaked.  “ A weźże ty mnie kurwa w nos pocałuj!” she yelled, before headbutting him. 

Surprised, the man didn’t react instantly. Taking advantage of the opportunity, she kicked him hard.

It didn’t exactly work, though. Infuriated, the man wanted to punch her - yet, he didn’t notice the rescue that had just arrived. Masamune stopped his fist in the air. 

Masamune didn’t see her in the couple of the following days, as they all worked to find out who was the person behind her kidnapping - and why was she even considered a target in the first place. 

When he finally met her, he was stunned. Her entire forearms were covered in bruises in the shade of deep purple, almost black. He lifted her hands up, saying: “ I’ll check you up for wounds. Wounds. Check. You.” To his surprise, she shook her head and smiled brightly. “ Boli, znaczy że żyje. Hurt mean alive.”

It dawned on him then - he never really saw her smile before. They were complete strangers, but he wanted to know more.

With the language barier in place, it wasn’t exactly an easy task. Granted, she could understand simple sentences - yet, it wasn’t enough. Masamune was up to the challenge and so, he asked her to teach him her language. 

Given the grammatical cases that influenced form of both nouns, adjectives and numerals, he soon started regretting his choice. The nouns had gender? Two future tenses? And what was up with all those ch-h, rz-ż, u-ó pairs that sounded exactly the same, but somehow weren’t interchangeable? Not to mention how some words seemed to consists exclusively of consonants. Rybołówstwo? -wstwo? 

“ Okay. Your turn.  Na wyścigach wyścigowych wyścigówek wyścigowych wyścigówka wyścigowa wyścignęła wyścigówkę wyścigową numer sześć.” Masamune blinked fast.  “ It was the same word over and over again, right?” “ Nope. Maybe  w Szczebrzeszynie chrząszcz brzmi w trzcinie?”

It seemed she tried to torture him. Though, having her laugh, even if at him, made him feel warm. 

 One day, he was taking a stroll and heard her voice. This time, however, he understood the words she hummed to herself.  “ Raz i dwa, raz i dwa, Dziewczynka Wojenka na imię ma. Trzy i cztery, trzy i cztery, Dziwne ona ma maniery. Pięć i sześć, pięć i sześć, Wcale lodów nie chce jeść. Siedem, osiem, siedem, osiem, Wciąż o kości tylko prosi. “

“Where do you come from, if you sign about war like that?” he asked. “ Can’t tell you. You’ll think I’m mad.” “ Try it either way.” “ You see, future. But I can’t say wars aren’t a thing anymore. Sadly.”

After that, they spoke for a while. Apparently, her grandparents were both in partisan army. She grew up hearing their stories - or much rather, what little was said about the horrors of the war. What surprised him, though, was her request.

“ Will you teach me how to use a sword?” “ A sword? Why?” “ I can’t be helpless. I have to adapt.” “ That’s the spirit,” he laughed. 

She certainly was a curious creature, one with a will to survive. She was amusing... Although sometimes she did find a way to get on his nerves. 

“ I am NOT cute.” “ You are. You have lisp and can’t say “r” like little child that can’t speak good yet.”

Dictionary & Notes:

“ Czy was tu wszystkich kurwa do reszty pojebało?!” - “Are you all fucked in the damn head here?”, although not exactly. The Polish version doesn’t entail anything that could indicate any connection to psychological disorder or madness. Both “kurwa” and “pojebało”(pojebać) are swear words that would be translated to “fuck”. Recently those words lost a bit of their shocking effect, but if you ask me - you still don’t want your mother to hear you saying those. Under any circumstances. Direct translation would be “Are you all fucking fucked up here?”

“Chrząszcz” - a beetle. However, can we appreciate the nasal “ą” sound and the fact that it’s the only vowel in the entire word? Apparently, it’s hard to pronounce for foreigners :D 

“Gdy swe oczy otworzyłem /Wielki żal ogarnął mnie /Po policzkach łzy spłynęły /Zrozumiałem wtedy, że //Czarny chleb i czarna kawa /Opętani samotnością / Myślą swą szukają szczęścia /Które zwie się wolnością”  - lyrics from song, you can listen to it here. “ When I opened my eyes/ a grief overwhelmed me /Tears run down my cheeks/ Then I understood that // Black bread and black coffee / Possessed by loneliness / Keep searching with their thoughts for happiness/ name of which is freedom” (excuse the translation, I wrote it myself). I don’t listen much to Polish music, but this was somewhere around ever since I remember - I think many people would recognize it? Plus, the theme of freedom seems to be rather common one.

“ Tutaj! Ratunku!”  - “Here! Rescue me!”

“ A weźże ty mnie kurwa w nos pocałuj!” - “ Fuck, kiss my nose.”; There’s another version of with, “pocałuj mnie w dupę” (kiss my ass). This one is more polite? Less crude? Either way, it means “I’m fed up with your bullshit.” Note: weźże is an verb derived from “weź” (to take) by adding a particle “że” at the end. Said particle indicated irritation and frustration. Construction weź + do something (weź idź na spacer - go on a walk!) is basically an order/ a request said with some level of irritation. 

“ Boli, znaczy że żyje. “ - “If it hurts, it’s alive.”/ “If you’re hurting, you’re alive.” ; that one isn’t exactly universal, but it was a huge one for me. I always heard it from my grandparents and aunts. 

Rybołówstwo - ... Fishing. When pronounced, it’s “rybołóstwo” - we still have a cluster of consonants here, but it’s easier to deal with. 

“ Na wyścigach wyścigowych wyścigówek wyścigowych wyścigówka wyścigowa wyścignęła wyścigówkę wyścigową numer sześć. “ - “During the racing event the racing car got ahead of the racing car number six.”; tongue-twister If you were wondering,the adjectives are in bold. The crossed out word is the predicate of the sentence (the verb).

  w Szczebrzeszynie chrząszcz brzmi w trzcinie  - in Szczebrzeszyn a beetle can be heard from the reed; tongue-twister. 

“ Raz i dwa, raz i dwa, /Dziewczynka Wojenka na imię ma. /Trzy i cztery, trzy i cztery, /Dziwne ona ma maniery. /Pięć i sześć, pięć i sześć, /Wcale lodów nie chce jeść. /Siedem, osiem, siedem, osiem, /Wciąż o kości tylko prosi. “ - song lyrics you can listen to here. Lao Che is a band that I think plenty of younger people interested in rock music will know. “One and two, one and two / The girls is named little war / Three and four, three and four / Strange are her manners / Five and six, five and six / She doesn’t want to eat ice-cream at all / Seven, eight, seven, eight/ She just keeps begging for bones.” ; All the songs from this particular album (Dzieciom - For Children; yes, it’s for adults that used to be children) are stylized to resemble a rhyme for children - at least in the lyrics and at first glance. 

A note: Japanese and Polish “r” are extremely different. Japanese “r” resembles Polish “l” sound a lot - and many children can’t pronounce “r” at first, exchanging it for the “l” sound. In other words, Masamune speaking Polish would have a really hard time due to his slight lisp... And he’d sound like a little child that tries, but fails. :) IT WOULD BE SO CUTE! 

When MC says her grandparents were in partisan army, she means they were part of AK - Armia Krajowa, during WWII. Whether that’s a good or a bad thing, I’ll let you decide for yourself. I don’t want to make this post any longer. 

“ Seeing his confusion, she pointed at him and then tapped on her temple a couple of times, an unimpressed look on her face. “ -  That’s basically how I’d show somebody another Polish saying “A puknij się w głowę” (Tap yourself on the head), which means “are you nuts”. 

O, yeah. I don’t know if you can find the translation of the entire lyrics online, but if you were curious... You know, hit me up. I can translate them.

... I got too excited.  Would you be mad if I wrote another one of those? I kinda want to... 

Tag list: @datenoriko , @nad-zeta , @tsubaki3192 , @choi-jiyu If you want to be tagged under my future works, let me know (any way works)!^^ Also, if you have some preferences (for example: you’d rather not be tagged under some series, etc.), please, tell me.