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lesbianlovelanguage · 4 years ago

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The Soul Knows Best

Hey Y’all! This is 1/4 of the prompts the ever amazing @eraseyourbookofstories provided for me. I hope it’s okay that it’s basically a rewrite of the bathroom scene, I just love the intimate chemistry of the moment here’s to hoping the duffer bros don’t fuck it up in s4

Prompt: “Soulmates don’t have to be romantic. Sometimes your soul resonates with a friend.” for Robin and Steve

Steve was happy that he hadn’t skipped health for once in his life. Go figure it was when he was sat in the fucking mall bathroom, on the run from evil Russians, the taste of vomit on his tongue and the worst hangover ever looming in his future.

He was happy because if he hadn’t been present for one particular lesson, his entire being would have been crushed in that shitty tiled bathroom, but rather than his soul shriveling up, he instead heard his health teacher’s voice ring.

“Soulmates don’t have to be romantic. Sometimes your soul resonates with a friend.”

And that’s exactly what had happened.

It was kind of crazy, and blurred in a drug and pain induced haze, but being tied to his coworker in a secret underground Russian laboratory had seemed to be one of the best moments. They never would have found out they were soulmates, never had a reason to touch until they were back to back and bleeding. But there they were, sprawled out in different bathroom stalls with matching ice cream cones of all fucking things on their left wrists. He had been so elated when he had sobered up enough to realize what the tattoo meant, that he wouldn’t be alone anymore, someone who would understand him, and then he slid under the stall and saw Robin’s face. She looked terrified and confused. Her voice was soft when he showed her the mark.

“This floor is disgusting.”

“Well, I already have a bunch of puke and blood on my shirt, so…” He responded, equally as soft. He was thrown by her voice, but determined to follow through. Maybe she was nervous that he would revert back to the King Steve personna that had been so dismissive of her in high school, but he wasn’t like that anymore. Had the scars to prove it, and would spill all of his secrets to show her that he meant it. They were soulmates after all. But she only chuckled lightly at his comment, and wouldn’t meet his eyes. Silence reigned for a few seconds before he couldn’t handle it anymore.

“What do you think?”

“About?” She finally looked at him, sadness in her blue eyes.

“The mark?”

“It’s pretty. Kind of a bummer that we’re branded with Scoops forever.”

“I mean yeah, but they’re kind of cool, right? I mean we’re soulmates, Rob.” He couldn’t contain the excitement in his voice at the word, but he also couldn’t help but notice how her entire body seemed to shut down.

“I think it’s a mistake,” she said, still holding on to the soft tone. Steve bristled at the implication that he was a mistake.

“It’s not a mistake. These things don’t just happen, I mean,” he huffed, unable to finish his thought.

“It is. Look, this isn’t right, and you don’t even know me. If you did, like really know me? I don’t think you’d even want to be my friend, let alone my fucking soulmate.” She couldn’t look at him anymore, soft voice gone cold and clinical as she talked about herself.

“Well, that’s not true. No way is that true.” Steve insisted, moving into her line of sight. Was she really still that obsessed with the Steve “The Hair” Harrington reputation. Hadn’t he already proved he was more than that?

“Listen. Steve. It’s shocked me to my core, but I like you. I really like you. But I am not like your other friends. I’m not like Nancy Wheeler.” She snapped the last sentence, and it solidified in Steve’s mind that it really was about his reputation.

“Robin, that’s exactly why we’re soulmates. Because you’re not Nancy Wheeler, or Tommy, or any of those other bullshit people. With you I can just be Steve, just be myself.” But she just shook her head.

“Do you remember what I said- about Miss Click’s class? About me being jealous… obsessed?”

“Yeah.” He said, confused about why she’s bringing up Miss Click and Tammy Thompson now.

“It wasn’t because I had a crush on you. It was because she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

“Miss Click?” Why did she matter, why did she have an impact on the fact that Steve and Robin were soulmates?

“No, Tammy Thompson. I wanted her to look at me, but she couldn’t pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair, and I remember the day she ‘accidently’ touched your hand. She was so crushed when you weren’t soulmates and I didn’t understand because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor and you would ask stupid questions and, and you were a douchebag.” Steve was starting to feel the floor slip away again, like the world was still spinning, except this time there were no drugs he could vomit out of his system. But Robin continued, oblivious or uncaring to his heartbreak.

“And you didn’t even like her, and I would just go home and scream into my pillow because I couldn’t compete with a douchebag.”

“But… Tammy Thompson is a girl?” Steve felt like he had lost the plot, too distracted. He must have missed something. When all the question got was a whispered Steve, it suddenly clicked, and he heard his health teacher’s voice louder than Robin’s.

“Soulmates don’t have to be romantic. Sometimes your soul resonates with a friend.”

“Oh,” was all he could think to say.

“Oh.” She mimicked back at him.

“Holy shit.” He sat back, feeling the floor solidify again. It wasn’t his reputation, or the fact that Robin thought he was bullshit that made her call him a mistake. While he was adjusting his world view, accepting the idea of a platonic soulmate and seeing that it fit perfectly into who he was trying to be, apparently Robin had been fighting back anxieties he couldn’t even comprehend, because she tapped him with her converse.

“Steve, you OD over there?”

“No, just, uh. Just thinking.” Clearly, it was the wrong thing to say because she just looked away again, and began playing with a lock of hair. She murmured something too inaudible to catch, so he continued, trying to placate her without being overbearing.

“I mean, yeah. Tammy Thompson? She’s cute and all, but she’s a total dud.” This seemed to knock the insecurities out of her though, as she raced to defend her crush. They bickered playfully, Steve continuing to try and make Robin laugh, until Dustin and Erica burst in, practically panting.

After that, it was a blur of the usual monsters and mayhem, but Steve made sure to keep Robin by his side through it all. It wasn’t until after they were all being treated by first-responders and interviewed by secret American spies that he had a moment alone with her again.

“You know, we’re all good right?” He said, wanting to make sure the insecurities didn’t come back now that adrenaline had pushed the drugs out of both of their systems. He really couldn’t bear to lose Robin, not after everything that had happened and having to face the fact that Nancy was well and truly shaking it up with Byers.

“Yeah, dingus. I think we’re gonna be just fine, you know. Shared trauma and all that.” She winked at him conspirataly, having heard Nancy say something along the same lines once. Steve gave a small smile, and when Robin insisted on staying at his house that night for a “Non-Monster Related Hang Out” he couldn’t say no.

tag team: @lostnoise @gideongrace @stevefuckingharrington @a-magey @trashmouth-hargrove @catharrington (lmk if you would like to be added/removed from the list!)

#tay writes #robin buckley #steve harrington #yes it's another rewrite of THAT scene #i just love it a lot #im sorry #it's also kind of short #oops #I hope you like it bb!!#The other three are in the works now #it was also kind of fun to not write harringrove #pushed me outside my comfort zone #but not like super far lol

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mechagalaxy · 8 years ago

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Dr Killova Mecha Psychologist

“Good morning, I am Dr Killova of the Krupp Institute for Mecha-Psychology, and I am here to counsel you on your mecha partners. I understand that you have recorded sub-optimal responses from several of your machines in recent wars, and your chief technician feels the machine spirits may be troubled by your choices in equipment and armament.”

The doctor looked like Tory’s blond cousin, and presented herself with the sort of professional calm that immediately put me on edge. I was a pilot, I jocked the biggest steel in mecha galaxy, 100 ton monsters that ate small cities and crapped starships. I didn’t believe in the cult of the machine, or the machine spirit, or anything other than the hard statistics, and the statistics were that some of my machines were performing far below the mean, and consistently so.

She slid the data slate across from me and the numbers flashed as she spoke.

“Your Boreas are a good example. You have to understand their nature before you can understand their needs. They are not all the same. Skadi is a killer, she only wants to kill. She will always fire, she is the white huntress, and lives only to kill. She will critical kill more often than the other Boreas, but will be uncaring as to whether or not she takes damage. If you keep any engines with kickback on her, she will destroy herself in her aggression, so she will perform better on point, maximized for speed and critical kill than at any other point. Agier is different, his is a cold spirit, he stalks with greater patience, he will seek to use surgical placement of his strikes to finish the weak, or to disable the strongest of an untouched foe. He should anchor your second rank, with enough trample shields to allow him to stay close to the front rank and learn from them. Bubbaduck needs lots of regen. Bubba will step into the fray and just start swinging, he will stack damage on his enemies, without worrying about his own. Fill him with engines to keep him healing and he will cheerfully keep swinging while tottering on his last leg.”

I opened my mouth to say that was nonsense when the data from their performance in my unlimited, single and double rainbow lineups flashed in front of me and bore out the truth. Damn. Its just a Boreas, aren’t they all the same?

She highlighted my Regis.

“Bun Bun is your personal mecha, and has been for years. When you gave the point to Skadi, it hurt him, and when transferred to another pilot, he showed a greater tendency to rush forward and die without firing a shot. When you are behind the controls, Bun Bun has the highest critical kill, engages more targets per salvo than any other mecha in your force, and has almost as great a chance to freeze enemy mecha out of sheer fear than even your best Boreas. Placed in the second or third rank, Bun Bun will seldom fire, as without the pride of being in the first rank, the rage that is Bun Bun’s soul is cold, and the machine itself is sluggish. Being a Regis, its defense is its attack speed and ferocity; it does not have the shielding to await others attacks as a counter puncher. Nidhogg and Penguin are happy hunters in the later ranks, predators seeking out the weak and damaged, or attacking with surprise new foes as they step forward, but any rank other than front will leave Bun Bun slow to fire.”

I understand that she is on to something, I had tried moving Bun Bun back, but the results had been terrible. I moved Bun Bun back to the front, but pilots had been refusing to take him. I guess I had best move back into his cockpit, and let the White Huntress take back Skadi who had taken on so much of her character already.

Three mecha were highlighted with odd codes. Green boxes surrounded them. The code on the boxes was marked “Hulk”. When I queried my implants for an explanation, they simply said “Hulk smash”.

“Doctor, what does this Hulk code on my Notas, Reaper, and Anubis mean?” I almost was afraid to ask.

She smiled the indulgent smile mothers get when their beloved babies get into something, or cat owners do when the cat destroys something precious simply to amuse itself.

“Ah darling, you have to understand, some mecha are like little boys. They do not like to overthink things, they simply want to smash. Red Comet, your Notas wants to burn the world. Grim Reaper, your Reaper wants to unleash the full rage of his cannon on anyone or anything that he can get under his guns, while Wadsworth, your Anubis has the soul of a master archer, who cares only for the perfection of the flight of his missiles. Each of these mecha has the capacity to get the most out of its weapon class because they understand it on a soul deep level. They care only for the art they make at war, for the perfection of the shot, the unleashing of the ultimate potential of the weapons you give to them. They do not care about your battles, or your war in anything but the most abstract sense. You will waste critical kill equipment on them, likewise advanced repair is of little interest to them. Grace them with enhancements to their weapon class, with damage stacking, and you will see number from them that will make Evil Santa shake in his boots, and convince Doctor Drake to take up lawn bowling over world conquest. If you ask them to be strategic snipers, you will be bitterly disappointed as they will forget every other need in their endless quest for the perfect shot.”

Oh great, what I had assumed were professional war machines were actually something like berserkers, or performance artists who paint in mayhem. Well, I guess I could pull my critical kill equipment from them, and concentrate on their damage stacking or weapon specialist kit. I looked at the numbers they were putting out, and they had generated an amazing list of shot numbers.

I was just beginning to think this was a good news visit when the doctor cleared her throat to get my attention.

“About Ferdinand” She began, then clasped her hands in front of herself and looked me right in the eye. “You are going to have to give up on your quest to make that Antithesis into a killing machine. He has not got the cold killer instinct to be a critical killer, nor the hot red rage to be a damage stacker. Your Antithesis is a pacifist”

I opened my mouth to object, Ferdinand was a born warrior, his ability to stay alive in a firefight had often left him the lone member of his line still remaining, and several of his strikes had bought time for his squadmates by freezing two mecha to buy time for my pilots to eject. Come to think of it, that was the only round he fired. Once his fellow pilots had ejected, his remaining shots consistently missed.

I couldn’t believe it “You have got to be kidding! There is no such thing as a pacifist mecha, the very definition of mecha is aggressive killing machine. I mean to be a pacifist mecha is to be the…” I trailed off as the ironic answer occurred to me.

The doctor finished it for me “Yes. To be a pacifist is to be the Antithesis of a fighting mecha. Tell me, how did you come to possess Ferdinand?”

I felt like an idiot answering this one. It was all so clear now. “We captured him intact from Dr Drake, I mean we blew up his whole attacking formation but we recovered him intact, all ammunition still onboard with signs the pilot just punched out and left when the mecha just shut down mid battle. There weren’t any signs we even hit it. Ah heck, I guess I can sell him to one of the academies, he would be a good trainer mecha, and he performs well in simulations. I mean, he really won’t let anyone get hurt”

That was life in this Mecha Galaxy, take mecha as you find them, don’t try forcing them to be what you want.

John T Mainer 28840

#boreas #antithesis #mecha #Mecha Galaxy

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