#actually would be something she would take with pride

[loki-zen]

It's something I've always found fascinating as someone in the weird position I'm in of like. having half an excuse* and yet not feeling the urge all that much

Im honestly pretty inclined to agree with the article on this:

..or at least, I think some of this weird behaviour from white people is stemming from some of the ways we bring up "white people" that are not that helpful. I'm inclined to think that - while it's often not appropriate in the situation to tone-police people talking about this stuff - in an ideal world we actually would be pretty careful to frame discussions of privilege and the need to unlearn bias in a way that didn't bolster the notion of durable racial identities, especially "white"...

Like if you look at the history of white as a category it didn't used to exist and it coming into being is pretty inextricable from racism. and, I dunno, I just think reifying membership of the White Race as some immutable aspect of people's personhood is a bad call whether you hope to make them feel pride or shame about it. understanding whiteness as more a property of how you're viewed (and not viewed) by a racist world makes a lot more sense to me, and is basically incompatible with (e.g) White People Stuff, White Woman Instagram, etc (these things are also usually object lessons in USAmericans being allergic to talking about class, which they could stand to unlearn.)

*I am a 3/4 white that completely passes as 100% white to the point of, my grandmother literally successfully hid her ethnicity from her own children and we only found out when her brother wanted to tell us after she died.

So I basically have white privilege 100% except at the makeup counter (skintone visibly reads as definitely white but has the wrong undertones) and when I take psychic damage from people being racist in what they assume is white company, although latterly I have also found myself re-assessing certain childhood bullying I got about the shape of my facial features.

All of which is to say, white, but the kind of white that whiter people (of the political bent that I hang out with) would let you get all "🙄 white people" about if you wanted

no one asked but a big part of the reason that I do always really try to indicate that I am including myself in the category "white people" when I talk about white people being on our bullshit is because this article from 2022 was really illuminating for me re: the implications of white people trying to distance themselves from whiteness by talking as if they are somehow not affiliated with other whites

[lucifers-rubber-duck]

Jealous headcanons and Hazbin Hotel Crew? (That is, Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Husker, Angel, Niffty, Sir Pentious, Lucifer). How jealous are they on a scale from 1 to 10, what reasons can cause this feeling, and how do they react to it?

A/N: Heyyy… long time no see huh? A little over a year for me to come back, I'm so sorry for taking so long anon 😭

𖤓Charlie

4/10. Trusts her partner with her whole life.

• Hardly ever gets jealous, she knows you well and knows you would never do anything to hurt her, actually finds it nice that you have people to hang out with outside the hotel.

• Now, that doesn't mean she never feels jealous, it happens once or twice. When someone gets way too touchy, if you end up canceling something with her or skips your group bonding activities. 

• She doesn't demonstrate it because she doesn't want to look clingy and make a scene, she knows it's just in her head and that you love her dearly, there's no need to worry. 

• If it reaches the point that she can't hold these feelings back, she'll call you to a more private place and talk about it, she'll make sure that you know what is bothering her so you know what to fix.

• Make sure to hug her and tell her how much she means to you after that, it will ease her worries. 

𖤓Vaggie

6/10. Thinks she's better at keeping a facade than she actually is. 

• Believe it or not she actually feels jealous very often when it comes to you, and she hates it. 

• If any sinner or demon gets too close or pushes your boundaries even by a second she'll be frowning and killing them with her eyes.

• She deals with it terribly, she doesn't want to admit she's actually jealous because it hurts her pride, but she's also terrible at hiding it and will start swearing and being passive aggressive to the person you're talking to.

• You're the one that needs to start a serious conversation about her jealousy, and a long talk it is because it takes looong before she admits her feelings. 

• She will apologise after noticing how she acted, take a deep sigh and promisse she'll try to control herself more if it ever happens again. You'll be hugging it out all day long after that.

𖤓Alastor

1/10. Watch if he actually gives a fuck.

• Doesn't bother to know with who, for how long and how you're spending time with, actually prefers when you're not around annoying him with your presence. 

• The ONLY way I can see him getting jealous is when it's something related to Vox in any way. 

• You got a new tecnologie from VoxTek? He'll destroy it the moment he sees it. Ever gets close to the same place he is? Alastor teleports to where you are and stops any interaction to even begin. He really despises that man. 

• Take that chance to make fun of him because is the only ones you'll have to see him showing some type of genuine care for you and honestly is pathetic.

𖤓Husker

2/10. Finds no reason to ever be jealous about you.

• Husker never expected you to keep any type of relationship with him in a long therm, be it friendship, romantic or whatever; so jealousy is a sentiment he convinced himself he wouldn't feel.

• You want to hang out with your friend in their house or at a party, go for it, he won't complain about the time or your clothes. You start hanging out with someone clearly younger and less grumpy than him, he won't be surprised if he gets replaced by them.

• He tries to ignore the tightness that forms in his heart some of these times, because there's no reason to care if it happens. In the end, you will always be back on the weekend for a bottle of whisky and he will (gladly) serve you. 

• Don't be surprised if he starts rubbing his face against your body tho, it's a natural instinct that assures him you're still a least a little bit his.

𖤓Angel

7/10. Petty and complaining all the way through. 

• It's not about getting jealous frequently, is about the intensity, and let me tell you, he's intense. When he gets upset at you it's easy to tell and hard to deal with. 

• He doesn't like when you're flirty with people, especially with people he doesn't know, even if friendly, that's a you and him thing to do. 

• He'll ghost you, will ignore you at the hotel and will throw random insults, if not at you, at a thing that you like; he will also be even more flirty with guys around him. 

• Luckly is not hard to fix things up with him, if you sit and talk it out or just say sorry out of the bat he'll put all that attitude behind and act as usual with you. 

• Expect him to be a little more clingy and touchy with you for a few days tho. 

𖤓Niffty

8/10. Watch your back while you sleep.

• She gets attached to people very easily, you included, and doesn't like being put in second place. It's not like she doesn't have other stuff to do, she mostly won't even notice for being too busy cleaning. 

• But when she does, oh, expect her to be mad. She'll threaten the person you're talking to, be it with her weird one eye look or pointing a knife at them; she will climb on you more often and do anything to catch your attention. 

• It's easy to tell she's jealous and the best you can do is actually pay more attention and hang out with her, make sure she doesn't think she's the problem or else she'll start crying. 

• Also, expect dead bugs in a very dirty room when you come back if you don't make up things with her, she holds grudges.

𖤓Sir Pentious

8/10. Hissing and whining like a abandoned dog.

• Gets jealous easily, be it for the clothes that you're wearing, the people you're around or even when his Egg Bois get more attention than him, he's petty like that. 

• His dramatic ass is making a scene out of it too, not in front of everyone, but when you two are talking alone he's putting a hand on his head, another on his chest and start chanting on how you aren't around him anymore. 

• There will be times where he finds the courage to go up to the person causing jealousy and tell them that they're bothering him. If it's about clothes he'll just bluntly say you need to change them.

• He also can't hold that annoyance for too long, if you get upset by his attitude or start ignoring him for it, give him a few hours and he'll come back lowering his head and telling he's sorry for being unreasonable. 

• To makes thing up quickly just be very close physically with him, he will melt, ran out of words and those noisy feelings will go away. 

𖤓Lucifer

9/10. When I'm in a jealous competition and my opponent is Lucifer. 

• As the sin of Pride, Lucifer can be very possessive of things and even people, some things aren't meant to be shared, and you are one of those. 

• Passive aggressive attitude all the way through, hides his frustration behind that big ass smile. It actually isn't directed at you, but rather at the person he's jealous of, he would never be mad with you. 

• Said person wants to talk to you? He finds a way to grab your attention first and pulls you away. They reach to touch you in any way? He slaps their hand away with his staff and says that is rude to touch someone without warning. A gift that hints a little too much? He'll give you a even greater one. 

• There's no way to control his jealousy, he can't be fixed no matter how much you assure him. Alastor 100% takes advantage of that and messes with you just to annoy him btw, good luck with that. 

[loredrinker]

Walking the Din'anshiral: Inquisitor Lavellan 

Days ago, I wrote about Solas invoking the din'anshiral in Trespasser. But Solas is not the only one who walks it. Inquisitor Lavellan, left in the aftermath of Trespasser, begins her own long journey on it. However, unlike Solas, the path doesn't destroy her - it reveals instead her resilience and inner strength and that she's redefined the meaning of the path itself. 

To understand her arc, we return to the moment Solas first names the din’anshiral: 

Lavellan: Let me help you, Solas.  Solas: I cannot do that to you, vhenan.  Lavellan: But you would do it to yourself? I cannot bear to think of you alone.  Solas: I walk the din’anshiral. There is only death on this journey. I would not have you see what I become. 

Many have interpreted Lavellan’s ‘let me help you” as a willingness to join Solas’s cause, but I see a different interpretation. This dialogue sets a foundation for the Lavellan we meet in Veilguard - the one who has not ended the relationship and who ‘vows to save Solas from himself’. Let’s call this Lavellan Atonement Lavellan. This specific dialogue reflects a lot about this character’s written core – how she sees Solas and instinctively refuses to abandon someone to suffering. 

If you are playing Atonement Lavellan - or choose to have any high approval Inquisitor in the atonement ending - I believe you are playing a character oriented toward connection.

Atonement Lavellan instinctively understands that Solas’s weakness isn’t his pride or arrogance - it’s his isolation. Her offer to walk beside him is a quiet act of resistance against the ideological death march he's committed himself to. She isn’t offering agreement with his plans - she’s offering her presence. I'm not certain at this point Lavellan has a plan, she's winging it (she's just found out he's the Dread Wolf after all), but all she knows is that she can't bear to think of him alone, meaning she intuitively knows that him cutting himself off from connection is not good.

Replaying Veilguard and returning to this moment in Trespasser, I saw this Lavellan symbolizing connection as a response to suffering. This is consistent with the kind of Inquisitor who helps Cole find his way, who hugs Varric after losing Hawke, who checks in on Cullen during his withdrawals and who offers Blackwall another chance. This is an Inquisitor who meets pain with presence and that doesn’t believe pain should be carried alone.

This dialogue choice also reveals something about Atonement Lavellan’s character framework in this narrative. She's not operating from wounded pride, nor seeking affirmation of his love as a salve for her own pain. Her instinct tells her this isn’t about her - it’s about the internal war Solas is fighting against himself. She swallows her own pride and heartbreak (heartbreak that would have been justified) to reach for something higher – something Solas is unable to do. Her true opponent in that moment isn’t actually Solas. It’s the din’anshiral itself. 

What I love about Atonement Lavellan is how she balances two seemingly irreconcilable truths: she is the Inquisitor, a symbol of political leadership and martial consequence - and she is also someone who loves a man now prepared to destroy the world. Her narrative doesn’t resolve that tension – it lives in it. It is her din'anshiral.  

Lavellan’s Own Din’anshiral 

"I am here, walking the din'anshiral with you." 

A quiet evolution takes place for Atonement Lavellan between Trespasser and Veilguard - one we don’t witness directly in the game, but which becomes clear in these words to Solas. In the years since Trespasser, she has walked her own road of sorrow and loss. All Inquisitors bear the heavy responsibilities of consequence, but for this elven Inquisitor, the din’anshiral resonates on an ancestral level. It connects her to the ancient Elvhen world, becoming a journey she walks to understand Solas more deeply, to understand that world. Somewhere in those intervening years, I believe Atonement Lavellan made a conscious choice to walk the path. But where Solas walks the din’anshiral in service of destruction, Inquisitor Lavellan walks in resistance to it.

By Veilguard, we see a romanced Atonement Lavellan who has paid a steep personal price for her choices. Her clan has been harmed or killed due to war table decisions. Learned revelations that have shaken her understanding of her gods and culture. She's a Dalish elf forced into the role of a religious symbol in a Chantry-dominated South and has either disbanded the Inquisition or surrendered it to the very systems that once oppressed her people. The Venatori still hunt her. The Grey Wardens don’t trust her. Varric is dead - killed by Solas. The title of Inquisitor, regardless of their background, is marked by compromise, impossible choices, and death. 

Despite the collapse of the Inquisition and years of political fallout, it is still the Inquisitor the people look to when the South begins to weaken under the failed ritual's chaos. That tells us something fundamental about who the character of Atonement Lavellan has become through the din'anshiral lens. The path includes defending a world that both mistrusts and depends on her. And in this new war, she may well die before ever facing Solas again. No promise of reward, no expectation of reunion. Even stripped of title and institution, she stands at the center of the fight, holding the truth that she leads Southern Thedas’s survival because of him. 

And this is the contrast to her walking the path as opposed to Solas. She's reclaiming the din’anshiral, transforming it from a path of death into a journey of survival. She doesn't give in to despair, though it might have tried to claim her many times.

So when Lavellan stands before Solas at the end of Veilguard, her words carry all of that. "I am here, walking the din'anshiral with you" - is a declaration forged through lived experience. She’s a woman who has known her own darkness and has chosen, again and again, not to let it define her. In my eyes, she is a hero of Thedas, standing beside a broken god, offering not salvation, but presence. Oh, what the history books will say of her 100 years from now! 

Whether the din’anshiral began as a vow of exile among the ancient elvhen or is simply a metaphor of ruin, there’s a quiet symmetry in Lavellan telling Solas that she, too, has walked it - not in opposition, but in parallel - their two paths finally merging.

Is the din’anshiral over for them? Not yet. Lavellan’s words in the present tense make that clear. For the Atonement Lavellan who leaves with Solas, it's the continuation of that path - perhaps shadowed and uncertain at first - but no longer walked alone. 

[knnichs]

ㅤruler of my heartㅤ a furina x reader fake dating au

t. not proofread, possibly ooc furina, set on a semi-modern fontaine, furina is NOT the archon, scara being a hater, wc. 3.3k

taglist. @aellesira @radiantdanvers @readerzz @randompassersby @romyoia @angeliteeyes -> ENTER THE TAGLIST HERE

series masterpost header art credits

author notes at the end!

ii. smooth sailing

It’s been three days since you’ve signed the contract with your director and your coworker. Three days where you had second guessed every decision leading up to now. It seems like your director was right about this whole stunt after all, everyone's attention was on the film and the two of you now. It’s unsettling to feel like the entire world has eyes on you, but there was a feeling in you that prided in the fact you’ve made it this far, you only had to worry about your co-worker playing the part.

In all truthfulness, though, Furina was not a bad actor–far from it, actually. WIth a seemingly snap of a finger, she was able to completely shift her personality to another, as if it was lightwork. You’ve admired her talent for as long as you could remember–but it leaves a bitter taste on your tongue, knowing that despite all your hard work, it was truly nothing compared to someone with a natural ability.

She had texted you not long ago. Yesterday, 6 pm, and now, 3 pm, reminding you to dress up for this pretend-first-date she had taken the honor to set up.

And now there you were, standing awkward infront of some cafe with a name too confusing to pronounce, it seemed to be popular with how many people were sitting in it. Warm golden lights seeped through hand-painted windows–this was the type of place you’d see when looking for stock images of cafes. 

An intense smell of roasted coffee beans would greet you once you even step one foot inside, and you quickly look for your date so you wouldn’t seem like an idiot standing by the entrance. 

Furina was already posing dramatically for nonexistent cameras, legs crossed while elegantly sitting on the chair. 

“Well?” She said, mocking impatience. “Are you going to sit down or what?”

You could only roll your eyes at her, pulling the chair back and settling in the booth seat.

 It didn’t take too long before some people started staring at the two of you–hushed whispers as they brought out their phones to take pictures. Why is THE Furina out on a date?

The silence was deafening. It didn’t even seem like you two were on a date, it was awkward, every time you tried to speak you’d hesitate and your hands would start to shake. You’re used to having a spotlight on you on set, never in public. This was your first time getting in a film for the festival and you didn’t even know it would get this big. 

Not for the all-talented Furina, though. Apparently not. Because she just had to clear her throat, cross her arms, before beginning to fit into the role given to her immediately. 

“Well… I’m getting a slice of lemon chiffon cake! It’s the most photogenic–it’ll look good on my feed, exactly matching the look of this place. Oh, and it’s tasty too. Naturally, it’s cake!”

You raise an eyebrow at her comment, “Did you just pick the place based on aesthetics?”

“Obviously. If we’re gonna be seen, we must be seen in the best light possible. It’s gonna be horrible if we’re unflattering, might as well play the part till the end, yes?”

“Thats…” 

Oh, it was certainly something. Not once in your lifetime would you think you’d ever see Furina actually take this whole thing seriously. Maybe it’s because she’s effortlessly flawless–ever since you’ve started your acting career, you felt as if you had to play as someone perfect all the time, even if there were no cameras and flashes filling your entire vision. Even if you were in the privacy of your apartment. It was ridiculous enough that you couldn’t help but laugh–that small interaction was enough to ease the tension you were feeling.

You had called over a waitress and finished placing your orders. You two sat opposite of each other, the table was small enough that your knees almost bumped. All while waiting for your food to arrive, Furina insisted on taking several pictures. She pulls out her phone, angling it just so to capture a candid-looking selfie, head tilted, a small smile curving her lips.

“You should lean in,” She whispered without looking up at you at all. “It’ll look absolutely adorable.”

And so you did, not without hesitating for half a second, forcing a pitiful smile. The phone clicked, Furina stared at the photo critically, then hummed in satisfaction.

“Perfect!” She declared, “Authenticity achieved. You’re a natural at this.”

The photoshoot didn’t end there, unfortunately. You were forced to take a few photos of her, and she took three of you. You questioned her, why do we need to be taking photos of each other? 

All she did was give you a giggle and reply with, “it’s for documentation purposes, you wouldn’t get it.”

For a few moments, you two sat in the busyness of the cafe, sun pooling in puddles on the floor–it reached her, almost like a halo clinging to the edges of her figure, the murmur of other conversations hushing yours, almost as if what you two were sharing was a private moment when in reality, it was far from it.

Furina rested her chin on her hand, studying you with bright, questioning eyes. It wasn’t the look of her usual self, scheming and plotting something that could potentially bring all attention to the two of you. It was… curiosity. As if she was almost interested in you, a genuine way that made you feel a little uneasy.

“You’re stiff,” She said bluntly.

You blink, a little taken aback by the sudden insult. “I’m trying to be normal.”

“That’s the problem! You’re trying, you must be effortless, natural!”

“I don’t think being effortless is a skill you can just summon on command.” You shook your head, crossing your arms and giving her a look.

Furina giggled, not the usual theatrical act, but a smaller, real laugh that caught you off guard. And before you could reply–your orders had already arrived. Two delicate plates painted to perfection, almost as if carved with actual gold with the amount of skill poured into it. Both slices of cake looked too pretty to eat, it almost made you feel guilty if you ruined it.

Furina wasted no time, however, snapping a quick picture before using a fork and diving into the lemon chiffon, sighing dramatically. “Absolute heaven,” She leaned across the table, taking another forkful of the cake and putting it right infront of you. “You must try.”

“What?”

“Try it!” She waves the fork, “Open up, come on, it’s just a bite.”

This is how rumors start, a few stolen photos, exchanged words from fan to fan–there was that feeling in you that this was wrong, you forget that you were simply on a pretend date. 

Odd. It’s almost as if you’ve completely forgotten you actually had the contract for a second.

“I suppose a single bite won't hurt anyone.”

It was light and sweet. The perfect balance of sweetness and sourness–vanilla and the taste of lemon clashed, but in a pleasing way. Furina grinned at your reaction.

“See?” She nudges you, “You can be charming when you try.”

You wipe your mouth with a clean napkin, “Stop being all smug—And yes, I am quite charming.”

“Ugh, whatever.” 

Sure, people were giving weird looks, but that was the point in the end. To gather enough attention for the film, be it scandal or not. Your moment with Furina put your guard down, you hadn’t noticed that people were already snapping pictures of the two of you. Phones peeking over a booth across the room, or barely-hidden glances by two teenagers whispering. It didn’t take long until blurry photos surfaced online.

Mission success, you think to yourself.

The sun was nearly set by the time you two went out of the cafe, the sky shifting to a soft, glowing purple and yellow. Streets were spilled with the light from the lamps, the air cold and thin. 

“I think this first date went well,” You say, not particularly to anyone, but Furina seems to notice. 

She hummed in agreement, letting herself breathe in the fresh air after being stuck in the cafe for so long. “Two days from now again, then? I got tickets to an aquarium showcase nearby.”

“Sure.” 

Maybe it was going well, maybe not. But for the first time, it didn’t feel like you two were pretending at all. There comes the price of being a great actor, you suppose. You’re not quite sure what's real or fake when you’re around someone as great as Furina–she could just be pretending, much like you, but what if it was real all along? 

What if. 

But there's no need to bother yourself with such distracting thoughts. There are things you need to focus on–the film, more pretend dates, you need to keep your act up at least until the festival. That is roughly… Two weeks from now.

Two weeks, you’re sure you can handle that atleast.

The wind tugged lightly at your leather coat as you leaned against the railing, just by the entrance of the aquarium Furina suggested you two go to. It was across the plaza, the glass making it seem as if it was glinting in the late afternoon sun. A large banner saying “DATE NIGHT: 50% OFF!” flapped noisily above you.

No wonder Furina got those tickets.

Speak of the devil. She was running towards  you, huffing, pure disappointment on her face–clearly unimpressed by her unprofessionalism. She had shown up fifteen minutes late–though she begs to differ, saying she was fashionably late, immediately launching to a dramatic retelling of how her hair refused to cooperate and how her original outfit suddenly disappeared into the comfort of her own mattress. 

She leaned beside you with arms crossed, chin tilted up like she was trying to intimidate the building. “Alright, we need a game plan.”

“For an… aquarium?”

“For our date,” She said, gesturing air quotes. “We can’t just walk in there like clueless idiots. There has to be moments, photo worthy angles, do you get what I mean?”

You shook your head once more, “No, not really. Did you want to storyboard this? Is that why you were late?”

“Just…! No–No I didn’t storyboard.” She huffed as if she was anything less than offended by what you said. “I’m improvising, like a true actress. But even improv needs structure.” 

Furina took out her phone and flipped the camera, her palm reaching to bounce her curls to fix them or something. “You’ll be on my left,” She added absentmindedly. “That’s your better side.”

“Excuse me? Are you saying I’m ugly on the other side?”

“Precisely.”

“Rude.”

“That I am not! Just telling the truth. Are we going to get in or not?” 

There was a flicker of something behind her eyes–a kind of nervous excitement she wasn’t quite able to hide behind the dramatics. She was trying, in her own way, atleast. Maybe not just for the cameras. 

You let a beat of silence pass before speaking up, “You know, we could just… Have fun. Be normal. See some fish?”

Yet she still looked at you like you’ve suggested committing treason. “Did you forget we’re doing this for PR?”

“It’s easier to fake a relationship when you don’t plan every interaction like it’s a play. Trust me, go along with it.”

Her mouth opened, ready to go talk back–but then, surprisingly, she quieted down. “Fine,” Finally slipping her phone into her bag. “Let’s do it your way.”

You offered your arm, “Shall we, your majesty?

She stared at your outstretched elbow, deadpan, scoffing when she pushed you slightly. “Never. Say that again.”

The inside of the aquarium was a hush of blue tinted light and soft murmurs, the soft whirring of the machine that clears the inside of the tanks. It smelled faintly of saltwater, obviously, you two were at an aquarium. The light would flicker from time to time-mostly due to the huge fish blocking it above you. You passed under an archway, casting rippling shadows over your face as if the building itself had sunk to the ocean floor.

The deeper you went in the showcase, the dimmer it got. The tank glowed at that point–schools of silver fish, a sea turtle drifting from time to time, its shadow vast against the wall. Furina’s earlier dramatic theatrics died down. She was uncharacteristically quiet, simply because of the awe present in her expression. She stopped posing for invisible cameras. You stopped watching for them.

There was a large viewing tunnel that dipped beneath the shark tank, Furina walked a little ahead of you, a bounce in her step you couldn’t ignore no matter how hard you tried. She looked up to follow the path of a hammerhead gliding overhead.

“Think they can see us?” She asked, whispering, she might've seen the signs to keep quiet.

“Maybe. What, you scared?”

“Ha! Far from it!” 

“Shh, not so loud.” 

A gentle lull settled between you, the sort of silence that wasn’t exactly awkward. It was comfortable. You two went from one tank to the next, the sound of muffled waves overtaking the sound of your own breathing. It was comfortably silent in the aquarium. 

Then, you found a reef tank.

It was massive–floor to ceiling, golden light that mimicked sunbeams through real water. Bright corals, you could’ve sworn there were some clownfish peeking out, sea anemones swayed with grace by the currents. The two of you stood in front of it, closer now without realizing at all, if it weren't feeling your hands brushing across her knuckles–you wouldn’t even think about getting too close to her.

She didn’t seem to mind, though. You were the one who stepped away, she was all too in awe of the fish. Seems like she was more interested in it than you, after all. You need to remind yourself that your relationship is fake, a PR stunt that your director thought of. Might as well make this trip worthwhile, so you try to speak up.

“Look,” You murmured, pointing to a tiny, almost transparent shrimp hidden behind two corals. “It’s a little shrimp. You can barely see it.”

You turned to Furina, trying to see if you caught her attention with that. Her gaze wasn’t on the tank.

It was at you. 

She looked at you with reason. It wasn’t a blank or distracted gaze, her eyes followed your every movement, the way you blinked, maybe the slow rise of your chest, or the way the light hit your face. Her eyes were wide, unguarded, you could almost see inside her very soul. You caught it just long enough to recognize it before she had blinked, panicked, and snapped her attention back to the tank. 

“What is it?” You asked, carefully.

Furina cleared her throat sharply, almost as if she were the one sulking. “Nothing. You had something on your face, that's all.” She gestured vaguely towards your cheek, fingers fluttering like an afterthought. Not once did she glance your way . “Lint. Crumbs. I don't know.”

You wiped your face, skeptical of her reason. “Really?”

She turned to look at you quickly, nodding too fast to be normal. “Yeah–yeah, it’s gone now.”

The fishes continued to swim in front of you, there was even a turtle waving by your peripheral, but you paid no mind. You chose to look at her for a moment longer, not saying anything. She didn’t try to meet your eyes again, instead, she fiddled with a loose thread on her sleeve. A ghost of a smile present on her lips.

“I see,” You say finally.

There was no lint, or crumb. But you didn’t push the topic further.

Instead you turned back to the tank, letting the silence guide the two of you again–but this time, it felt like it changed, there were unspoken words that none of you decided to say. Like something had shifted, and not a single one tried to think about what to do about it.

“Tell me something,” Furina said suddenly, her voice quiet.

You tilt your head, looking at her once more–she still hasn’t gathered the courage to stare back. “What kind of something?”

“Anything. About you–not something in your ‘press kit.’”

You paused, a little surprised by the question. “I used to sneak out of school to sit by the riverbank. Just to listen to the water. Pretend I was anywhere else.”

“That’s so lonely. Were you a loser back then?” Furina smiled, she tried to play off her question in order not to raise suspicions.

“It was peaceful. I didn’t mind.”

She regretted her previous comment, choosing to stay silent before talking. 

“I used to lie about being afraid of the dark so someone could stay with me. A–as a kid, of course, but that wasn’t because I was scared, I just didn’t want to be alone. Neuvillette, my friend, would often accompany me.”

“That’s not lonely?” You asked gently. This was when you realized exactly that you really didn’t know the first thing about your co-actor, behind the staged expressions, there really was something human behind it all. Even though you yourself were an actor, you couldn’t believe that someone like Furina… You shook your head before the thought continued.

She shrugged, “It’s different when you choose to do it.”

“Fair enough. You know, I used to get in trouble for sneaking out. My teachers would always message my parents, "I'd get quite an earful at home.”

She laughs softly, genuine. “Yeah?”

You hum, “Yeah. There was this one time I–”

A soft buzz lit up both your phones at the same time. Simultaneous vibrations, the pings suddenly multiplying like crazy. So, you both reached for your pockets.

There it was, a new tweet from your director’s official account.

Furina grumbled, a noise coming from the back of her throat. “She did not.”

“Oh, she did,” You say, showing her your phone screen.

“Ugh,” She groaned, rolling her head. “She’s going to start printing hoodies next. I just knew this was gonna happen–I should’ve never agreed!”

But her tone wasn’t exactly annoyed. She was already typing something back, a long message to your director and to the tweet. You watched her, not just her practiced scowl, but the little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

As if the idea of more time together wasn’t quite the worst thing in the world.

Maybe it wasn’t.

You two stepped outside of the aquarium after what felt like forever. The air was colder, the night wrapped around you like a blanket. The city streets gleaming with neon signs. You pause by the exit, unsure if the evening has been a success or just an elaborate act you two put up. Still, the soft glow from the signs above makes it feel like a scene from a film–one that you and Furina are just playing out, even if no cameras were there, as cliche as it sounded.

Furina pulls out her phone, a mischievous grin on her lips. “I think it’s time for a photo. We can’t leave this place without the proof.”

“Whatever,” You waved her off.

Though, you still agree. Even if you’re getting used to how natural this whole “date for the PR” thing felt despite it all being fake. Furina walks up to a passerby, flashing a smile that has a certain calculation behind it–practiced, she’s learned how to perform even in these moments.

With a small flash, the photo was taken. The stranger hands the phone back, and Furina looks a little disgusted by the angle.

“This is not good. How exactly am I gonna post this?” 

“You won't die with one bad photo.”

“I–You–Fine! Don’t blame me if we start getting backlash because of this… This.. Poor excuse for a picture.”

@ knnichs 2023 ﹑ do not repost, republish, translate, feed to ai or modify any of my works. doing so can and will result into me blocking you.

reblogs with comments are INCREDIBLY appreciated! go scream go feral idc i will eat all of them up and run away with a familiarly shaped reblog in my mouth, thank you.

GUYS IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG UM?????? i highkey lost motivation but we ball i was supposed to put gurt in this fic but i couldnt find a proper situation to put him in......... anyway !! yay... downfall is next chapter .. thats where real angst starts ........... the taglist is still open for anyone interested !!!!!!! i am THREE chapters far from finishing this WOOHOOa

[latencylacy]

obtaining 'food' in [☣️🖍️🌐] is inconvenient at best and life threatening at worst, jaden would more or less have to beg seth to host anything and he'd eventually give in and do his best for the kid. they'd deliver all of their invitations on foot- she'd make individual unique cards for everybody in a color she thinks reminds her of them, complete with a childish drawing of everyone around a table and a date for the occasion. he'd quietly explain that nobody actually Has to attend, thinking they'll just go home, make dinner, and he'll have to explain to the disappointed girl that a dinner party isn't something they can really do.

but, let's say people Do attend.

warren has already figured out how to work with the mutated feral yeast that overtook his old bakery a while ago, he'd have no problem bringing a few loaves of his "new and improved" bread

slade, having spare ammunition left and easily caving to anything involving the younger folk left in here would deem it a proper use of resources to put up with a sizeable postfauna for it's meat. from there, finding a way to cook it is the easy part. getting to see the look on the girl's face is the hard one

while they'd do the gathering together, calix would make sonya hold the basket as he explains exactly what from the radio tower's overgrowth is safe to consume and that none of the fungi are to be injested under any circumstance. no he hasn't tried- no sonya you can't- you're not- SONYA???

mindy and lollo would run door to door kicking down vending machines and mugging them until they've obtained a surplus of dubious candy so grand it would make a mukbanger shudder. they'd high five and take pride in their haul before devolving into an argument over who got more and deserves the credit for harvesting

seth would be surprised but nonetheless pleased to see anyone show up, his 'sister' ecstatic. they didn't do that much themselves besides throw together a crude stew from canned goods they'd obtained previously as one party expected no one to show up and the other expected a full gathering

they can be like a real family, just this once

Dinner party with your OCs! What’s everyone bringing to the table?

[wdxghosty]

As long as I have you

Rise!Donnie x OC fic

CyberxStich 💜🩷 - (Donnie POV)

Word count- 1626

Tw!!!: mentions of gore, implied nudity, mental breakdown I guess? Beware of angst.

…..it’s been three weeks since the… incident. Me and Ophie haven’t spoken since, & I don’t blame her. But! today’s our monthly movie night, & she wants to watch Sucker Punch (again). I wonder what snacks she got this time? Probably a bunch of candy, or a whole cake. Ophelia isn’t someone we should trust with food, she always gonna go with something sweet. At first I hated it, but she always make me something separate with less than what’s her usual amount of sugar, I’m shocked she’s not a diabetic.

I make my way to her apartment complex, the apartment her parents pay for. It’s nice in a nice part of the city, I would say good but good in this town when it comes to housing is a couple hundred thousand.

Rustling around in my pockets I find the fob and get in. I haven’t really noticed until now how much I’m at her place, I don’t even think the receptionist knows I don’t live here. Should I be embarrassed about that? I get to her floor and open the door, to no one’s surprise she bought cake, cookies, and other pastries, instead of food.

She snuck up behind me from the kitchen and placed her head on my shoulder. “You look disappointed?”

“I already ordered pizza,” i turned around and grabbed her face, inspecting it. A grin plastered itself on my face as I try to hold back a laugh, “nice to see your eyes grew back.”

“Oh fuck you Daniel,” she pushed me away before I snatched her back to embrace her. “You like hugs now?”

“I make acceptions.” I let go of her and walk over to the couch, “so are we watching the Snyder cut, or do you wanna complain about how the regular version ruins the flow of the story?”

She fakes offense, before jumping on my side of the couch taking up the majority of it, pushing me into a small corner. “I do not do that.”

I cock an eyebrow at her, looking her up and down amused by her obvious lie. “You don’t?”

“No.”

“Never?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“So when you make us watch hazbin hotel so you can complain about the writting, you’re not doing that?”

“No… not all the time no.” There’s a pause she looks at me with a straight face before breaking out in laughter, “But we are watching the regular version so I can complain.”

“Of course.” I roll my eyes before getting comfortable on the couch, a plush of a snake right next to me.

Ten minutes into the movie the pizza gets here and she gets up to go get it. And this is a very normal day for us… Why is it, normal? I saw my… I saw Ophelia gouge her own eyes out screaming about death or immortality?

Blood was all over the bathroom floor flowing out of her eye sockets, the actual balls were completely destroyed. She lost so much blood and yet she acts like nothing happened. she looks like nothing happened. No scars, new eyes materialized out of thin air, and despite not going to a hospital she’s perfectly fine.

Why do I hate that? I mean it’s not normal, but that’s not why I dislike it. I’ve always been her person, for lack of a better term, or whatever I’d describe it as? A hyper independent child who hated to rely on anyone, relied on me. I found pride in that… it’s stupid but I liked feeling wanted by her.

Even when she didn’t need anyone anymore she kept me, she never asks for anything from anyone but me. And when she lost her mind she wouldn’t even let me hold her… and now she’s fine. I didn’t get to talk her through it, or buy her way more junk food than necessary, or rewatch the boondocks for the 20th time while she recovered.

I didn’t get to be with her in her vulnerable state, a luxury only I have access to. I didn’t get to help her. I wasn’t needed.

And now she’s jumping around like nothing happened. It pisses me off.

“Donnie?” I jolt up shocked by her sudden presence. “You got half supreme and half pineapple, you must be in love with me?” She cups her cheeks in her hands and sways around, before dropping her body on mine.

I let out a sigh, “well you are hosting, and you can’t go wrong with supreme. But don’t expect me to touch the pineapple.”

She lets out a cackle before slumping back over to her side of the couch, “I don’t expect shit out of you Donatello. I CANT BELIEVE THEY GOT RID OF THE SHOW SCENE!”

———————————

The movie finished a couple hours ago, & like any other movie night we put on cartoons while talking and eating the rest of the snacks. When she lived in California we would do this over a video call, but thanks to our time differences I still don’t know if she stayed up as late as I did.

Eating a slice of the ube cake she made, Kalissa curled up on the couch eye glue to the tv screen.

The same eyes that were reduced to mush a couple weeks ago.

“Ugh! I’m sooooo sad they didn’t do anything with Marvin or Eduardo, I hate it when kids shows get the best relationships! Why can’t they make this fo-“

“What did I do?”

She looks up at me confused, “what?”

“Well I had to have done something, for you to cast me aside like that.” I threw my arm over the back of the couch and lean on its arm.

She sits up and puts her cake on the table, “Donnie what are we even talking about?” She pushes her hair out of her as she tries to avoid eye contact.

“Was it the k-“ my words get caught in my throat as she looks back up at me with penitent eyes, “It’s just… you- you locked me out and I…” I take a deep breath in but struggle to release it. “O- Ophelia that was terrifying! I- I thought… when I opened that door- all that blood!” my throat suddenly tightens, “I thought you were dead! But you weren’t. despite having no eyes you could see, even though you lost enough blood to fill up buckets you didn’t die? A- AND YOU!” I get up off the couch and start pacing around.

“YOU WON’T TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED! THE FUCK HAPPENED TO YOU COULD ALWAYS COUNT ON ME!?” My voice cracks, I can’t feel my eyes start to water, “I- I’m sorry. I thought you-“ the look on her face is blank, completely unreadable, almost as if she isn’t registering what’s going on.

“I thought you felt the same, and considering you didn’t, I don’t expect you to be happy with me but- I STILL CARE ABOUT YOU AND YOU JUST- YOU JUST!” I let out an exasperated huff, panting for air. I can feel myself start to sweat as my throat closes up, or is it getting lumpy?

“I… I think I’m in love with you. And if you don’t want me back, I want you to just say that so we can go back to being friends. I don’t want to deal with the things you make me feel if you just gonna… if you.”

I’m at a loss for words. Literally, I don’t know how to Finnish this?

Why would I love a woman that makes me feel like this? It’s like she doesn’t even care, why wouldn’t she care, SHE ALWAYS CARES! W-why do I hear foot steps?

I look up to see her walking away from me to her room. I fall to my knees in disbelief, “OPHELIA! come back here don’t! Don’t leave me again you asshole! You don’t get to just walk away or shut me out w- when you don’t feel like dealing with me!” My breathing only gets worse, I clutch my throat, I can feel my tears running down my face as I curl up on the ground, “O-Ophie! Don’t… come back.”

———————

“Nice to see you’re awake.” She holds my cheek in her hand, gently slapping me awake, “you passed out after the whole… thing. So I drew you a bath. Lavender scented!”

“…you leave me on the floor hyperventilating, curled up in a ball, and now we’re taking a bath together. Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

She looks away from me, “Don’t respond to this, I don’t want to hear your voice after I say this.”

“Say what?”

“I… this is sooo cringey. I am in love with you, I think? I mean I think what love is I feel for you, but I’m not sure…” she closed her eyes and covered her ears, as her face grew more flushed.

“Donnie you didn’t do anything. I don’t want you to feel like, I don’t want you. But the whole thing with my eyes I can’t explain… not yet at least. I just need you to promise you won’t worry.”

I didn’t say anything, I just hugged her. I hate not knowing what’s going on, and I hate this even more because it’s fucking with my life. But she hugs me back, and in her embrace I stop caring that much.

Ophelia is a lot of things but she always pushes through her problems, and gets out unscathed. and if she says I should just trust her, I will. reluctantly? Yes. But I will none the less. Getting to hold her for the first time in what feels like ages… as long as I can keep my Ophium I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.

[stygiansun-totaleclipse]

What would it take for each of the ro's to fake being sick?

Kieran: They would prefer not to bc they wall off their own vulnerabilities and appearing sick just makes them anxious like they’ve left themselves open for attack. So they’d only fake it if it played into some greater strategy—like if they needed someone to think them vulnerable or out of commission right now.

Nihm: Doesn’t like being disingenuous :( It makes them feel queasy. But they also don’t want people to worry about them so if that feeling outweighed their dislike for dishonesty, then they might fake being a bit sick to hide something more serious or to get out of a bad situation that is bringing too much attention on them so they can hide.

Lilith/Lucien: Not much if it gets them what they want. But they’d only really bother with it in certain less serious contexts. Like being a lil jealous pest and pretending to just have a very mild cold so mc dotes on them :3 (suck it, Rynn). Otherwise, they wouldn’t, especially not around people they don’t trust. They’ll hide when they’re actually sick like an animal hiding weakness.

Samira: She’d prefer not to bc she doesn’t want to make the people she cares about worry unnecessarily. But I suppose if she felt she really needed to do this as like a manipulative tactic and that the outcome would outweigh the guilt she’d feel in lying about it to the people she loves, then she’d fake it—like if mc simply won’t slow down and they need to bc they’re injured or something, then she’ll swallow her pride and feign illness so mc has to slow down and take it easier for her sake if not their own.

Aurynn: Would only do it if it would cover up a more serious condition or injury so he can explain away his behavior as just being a little under the weather. Wouldn’t do it otherwise bc he doesn’t want the attention being sick would bring—keep the healers away from him. 🙅‍♂️

[stereopticons]

On This Day in Schitt's Creek: May 1

2019

follow your heartbeat to freedom [david/patrick, G, 4,271] by withkissesfour

He’s always prided himself on making decisions, making them well, making them wisely, but it’s rare that they’re not clouded, directed, guided by the overwhelming need to be liked, an eagerness to please, a desire to be nice, to always be as nice as he can be; and he can’t figure out whether he’s made the right choice once he’s made it. Patrick makes choices, in four parts.

Like Coming Home [david/patrick, G, 6,641] by @erandri

Patrick knows that he likes guys, he's just never put it in so many words. Or, the five times Patrick almost comes out and the one time he does.

steel and oak [david/patrick, E, 4,580] by @helvetica-upstart

“Would you have picked me up in a bar, if I'd been there back when you were looking for randoms?” Patrick asks, pupils blown wide. “I’ve never done that before, I don’t even know what it would be like, but. I can imagine. I'd want it.” or, David has some idle talents; Patrick has some fantasies that would put them to use.

2020

May all your wishes come true [david/patrick, NR, 6,394] by For_pucks_sake

David and Patrick make birthday wishes over the years.

Not Quite Ready [david/patrick, E, 801] by @reginahalliwell

David and Patrick try something new, and David realizes he isn't quite ready.

Solid [david/patrick, T, 959] by @impressionism

After the wedding, after the goodbyes, Patrick steps up to take care of David. That's pretty much it.

The Beautiful Game [david/patrick, G, 1,671] by @popfly

David and Patrick meet at a baseball game.

This Room Will Keep You Warm [david/patrick, T, 3,159] by odofidi

Patrick wakes up one January morning with a terrible head cold. David (with a small assist from Stevie) finds his way through the day.

Unbelievable [david/patrick, G, 488] by @thegrayness

Patrick comes back with lunch for David in The Olive Branch: A Ficlet.

2021

As They Rolled Away [gen, G, 330] by shuisfan79

Stevie watches Johnny and Moira through the car window as their car rolls away.

come home to my heart [ted/alexis, G, 1,822] by @roseapothecary

“Oh, my god — Ted?” Her own voice echoes in her ears and she’s suddenly standing, dumbfounded, outside Cafe Tropical almost seven years ago. Watching Ted step into the bistro felt eerily similar to watching him step off that motorcycle for the first time. It’s the kind of shock that makes the sparkling restaurant tile quake under her Louboutins. Except, this time, the feelings bubbling to her chest are now far more nuanced than she knows how to process — no amount of personal growth or number of self-care retreats with Oprah could’ve prepared her to suddenly come face-to-face with the first person she ever loved more than herself. OR: Alexis has a blind date. It's not what she EX-pected.

Double-Booked [david/patrick, E, 13,171] by @themelancholyvegetable

David books an Airbnb. Patrick books a VRBO. It's the same house. Tropes: There's only one bed; snowed in/forced proximity

Fate Is Kind When You Wish [david/patrick, M, 8,685] by @januarium

There it is, an actual real life shooting star. He’d had a brief period of obsession with Disney’s Pinocchio as a child and had thrown a spectacular tantrum when his parents refused to make shooting stars appear for him on command. Adelina had explained that that was why they were so special. You don’t get all the wishes you want, you only get them if you’re really lucky and you take the time to look. David is pretty sure he's seen a couple before, and those wishes certainly didn’t come true, but he can’t help himself. He stares at the star flying across the sky and thinks as loudly as he can. I wish I knew what’s going on in Patrick’s head.

Gonna Watch You Shine [johnny & stevie, G, 1,127] by @kiwiana-writes

Found Family Feelings: The Johnny & Stevie edition.

In the long reeds of difficulty and pain (that’s where you find the treasure) [david/patrick, E, 3,363] by @redwineandqueer

When the knock comes, Patrick has been pacing his apartment for over an hour. The TV blares, forgotten, in the background and a pile of books are scattered over the coffee table, remnants of his unsuccessful attempts to distract himself from the echoing silence. Because David still hasn’t called.

Rollin' With the Homies [alexis/twyla, T, 9,917] by @sarahlevys

So I know it seems like I live in this, like, super privileged world. Or maybe, like, a rip-off of The O.C. – or even worse, Laguna Beach, ugh! But I swear, I have a totally normal life! Alexis Rose is just your totally average 16 year old with two annoying older siblings, David and Stevie, and a totally normal crush on her best friend, Twyla Sands. It's completely chill. She isn't, like, totally buggin'. AKA: the Clueless AU.

2022

not before 10 a.m. [david/patrick, T, 200] by @dinnfameron

David's not really a morning person? But for Patrick, he might make an exception. Written for the prompt: Someone says “I can’t believe you talked me into this…”

the lie between your teeth [david/patrick, M, 48,126] by @stereopticons

The man–David, 30, 79 miles away–is giving the camera an imperious stare, thick eyebrows knitted together, dark stubble perfectly highlighting his face, lips parted just slightly. The only word Patrick can think of to describe him is beautiful and even that feels inadequate. He stares at the picture for so long, waiting for his brain to come back online, that his phone screen dims and shuts off. AU in which David and Patrick meet via a dating app, or the answer to the question, "what if David's 79-mile-away match from 2x07 was actually Patrick?"

We blend into my favorite color [david/patrick, E, 2,333] by anonymous

After Cabaret ends, Patrick is interested in the idea of wearing makeup again. Him and David explore this in the bedroom.

2023

Drabble Life 2023 [david/patrick, NR, 1,909] by @jesuisici33

new year, new drabbles!drabbles based on weekly prompts from schittscreekdrabbleblog on tumblr

Forever [david/patrick, G, 100] by @legalgal421

David reflects during his wedding.

Spin [david/patrick, G, 100] by @ramonaflow

100 words based on the Tumblr prompt: Spin

2024

“Where words fail, music speaks.” [david/patrick, M, 22,272] by @characterassassination-at-9am

What would happen if we mashed up Noah's lyrics with Patrick's thoughts and words? Title is a quote by Hans Christian Andersen

Ouch! [david/patrick, T, 735] by @a-noble-dragon

One second David’s crouching down to get a box of Rose Apothecary totes from the lower shelf, then the next he’s overbalanced and is falling ass backwards onto the floor right in the middle of the store.

The Beltane Blessing [david/patrick, E, 1,725] by @a-noble-dragon

The Fae realm at Schitt’s Creek is on a different plain to that of the human world. Only at Samhain or Beltane does the veil between the two world’s thin. At those times, the fae peek through the transparent veil to laugh at the humans and their antics. They’re drawn to the joy, abundance, and fertility of the festival which marks the beginning of summer, and is held midway between spring equinox and summer solstice. And sometimes, when the mischief mood is as high as the moon, the fae leave their realm to join in with the fun.

Stats:

No fanworks for 2017 or 2018 2019: 3 fics/15,492 words 2020: 7 fics/14,059 words 2021: 7 fics/38,415 words 2022: 3 fics/50,659 words 2023: 3 fics/2,109 words 2024: 3 fics/24,372 words Total: 26 fics/145,466 words

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Any rogues, as girl dads please. They all are one in my head.

Girl Dads

Scarecrow: Girl or boy, he's not exactly going to be present and definitely not emotionally available. However, having a young daughter was worse as he had absolutely nothing in common to even try to relate to his daughter. He would likely intimidate his kid into behaving, meaning he's perfected 'the look'. She often struggled to keep up with him, but he will eventually take a semblance of pity and take her hand to help her keep up. He very rarely spends time with her.

The Riddler: He also finds it hard to relate to his daughter. However, he has gotten creative. He got his daughter to help him pick outfits upon occasion and let her give him make overs...specifically letting her do his hair. He's also the dad who insists she holds his hand everywhere (and it's very cute.) It gives the impression he's very attentive, but it's more he's forgetful and then making up for forgetting his daughter needs constantly attention. However, he adores how much his daughter adores him. Her seeking his attention and adoring him with every breath healed a bit of his Childhood trauma... and sated the narcissism in him.

Black Mask: He'd rather lift and carry her around. He's too paranoid to risk not having an easy getaway. There's very few pictures of the two together. He was very particular about being seen in public with his daughter (for her safety). Even when it meant public speculation in gossip columns whether he was actually present in her life. When she had started to lose her baby-like features and more like her parents. Roman had resorted to putting a mask over her face so she couldn't be identified. These actions is how he showed his love for his child as it wasn't clear affection or daily interactions. He is a man with severe anger issues that rules the house.

Penguin: His pride and joy like a trophy to show off. Although if he thinks it's too dangerous that day, he won't have her with him. He adores his daughter, and it shows. He makes sure she wants for nothing and, at the same time, never lives in fear. A normal childhood and a secure one financially - something he hadn't had growing up. When she's older, he definitely wants to teach her to value her blessings. Nothing made him happier to come home to her, and like a routine, he'd go straight to check on her and find her fast asleep.

Two-Face: Overprotective. More so than he would be of a son. He's far too aware of what happens to women in Gotham. All his years as an attorney reminded him of all the dangers and he felt a daughter was more vulnerable than a son. He's always shielding her in public. He doesn't even want her face to be seen publicly. He always keeps her on his unscathed side, not wanting her to associate his burns to himself. He always wanted his uninjured side to prevail in her mind. Harv' is relieved to have a daughter over a son. He believed he could connect to her more as a caring father than he voukd if she were a son. Years of being told to 'man up' made him wary he'd pass that to a son. Having a daughter meant he could just tolerate she'd be sensitive.

[review-anon]

I was just thinking about a title/epithet you would have in the Afterlife Theater, since Review Anon wouldn’t really make sense in a non-askblog context. So, I hereby dub thee, The Drowned One. That shall be your deific designation in the Afterlife theater

//Ironically enough this would be a title that Review Anon would HATE.

//Especially as she has hydrophobic, and doesn't really like being reminded of her death.

//Maybe she would accept it later on, but this could be why Review Anon's default mood is so gloomy all the time.

[jpegsthatmove]

ACTUALLY, I cannot stop thinking about the object lesson Solas gives Rook about finding alternate ways to remove opponents

Solas: “I made people laugh at him”

Me: aaah, so very smart! The god of lies and trickery using propaganda and misinformation to undermine the credibility and fearsomeness of an adversary! I wonder how he demeaned him in the public eye? What inventive rumors did he spread that eroded his reputation and power?

Solas: I used magic to psychologically torture him into a mental break :)

Me:…

[rabble-dabble]

it took a lot of thinking to settle on knowing if i was a trans guy but what really solidified it to me was being unable to live with the thought of dying as anything but an old man. i can't imagine not having grey facial hair and old faded top surgery scars and maybe grandchildren who call me "grandpa". i just cant live with the thought of my gravestone having "daughter, wife, aunt, niece, grandmother," carved into it along with the name of a stranger. they can't ask me to die as a her. They won't kill me as a her. they wont bury me as a her. Its not fair. They can carve the wrong name into stone and dig up my bones and say "this skeleton makes a woman" but i assure you i'm going to die as a man with the name those close to my heart know me by. and i'm going to live long enough to meet him, the future version of me, because if theyre gonna try to bury me as a woman theyre gonna have to try and kill the man in me to do it. and ill cackle from my casket knowing they had to try to erase me in death because i wouldnt let them do it while i was alive. I wouldnt let them.

[mxwhore]

mutuals. i am getting caught in my own bitterness again...

[candied-cae]

And Who Are We At The End Of The World? - Freaks and Fools

Chapter 15/? - - - Read it on AO3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20]

Word Count: 9,634

Summary: While they await the final verdict, passing the hours by until the Hawkins Police decide what will happen to Eddie Munson, a few of them have some fun in his hospital room. A few others hammer out the details with the government operatives. And, eventually, the shoe has to drop...

What's going to happen so they can move on from Spring Break?

More ST Fics

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While most of the party was making their way to the high school, agreed upon gathering around one of the tables outside, one faded yellow pizza van was arriving at the hospital. Argyle got them parked, and Robin was swinging the door open for their two smaller backseat passengers to climb out. El, of course, was someone they already expected to bring. To make sure she didn’t get cornered somewhere alone while the others got things figured out. But Erica was also trailing along. She had promised to check on Max first thing for her brother while he was off with Dustin, telling the rest of Hellfire a good cover story for what was going on.

“Come along, ladies,” Robin grinned at the two as they hopped out onto the parking lot.

The older kids escorted the younger of them to check in and obtain their visitor passes and waved to Officer Nichols. He was posted outside Eddie’s room on a chair in the hallway, flipping through the morning paper while he sipped on a cup of crappy hospital coffee. He returned the gesture with a tip of his cup while Argyle hovered behind Erica, following her into Max’s room while she made her visit. The other two went for the door across the hall as Robin poked her head through first.

She actually had a particular question she’d been asked to extend before El came in with her.

“Heeyyy, Eddie?” she asked as she cracked open the door to the guy’s room, wearing a big, bright smile to hopefully win him over effortlessly.

Eddie looked over from the tv set quietly playing a cartoon. There was a second of confusion when he saw her face - only having expected to see El’s - when he noticed the expression spread across it. She had a suspicious kind of smile that cued him that she had a favor in mind,“ What do you want?”

The thing was that when Robin was getting picked up, the girl had stepped out of the car to say something before she got buckled in. Robin leaned over and El whispered to her something about when she had the sleepover with Max over the summer. That she’d mentioned wishing she could paint her nails. Max might’ve been a rough and tough kind of girl, but she liked feeling pretty and special too. But as active a kid as Max was, it would just chip off in no time. So the girl never really went through the trouble, even though she liked the look of them. And well… Max wasn’t really going to be doing too much right now… so El wanted to paint her nails as a little surprise for when she woke up.

But El had never even painted her own before, so surely it wouldn’t go very well.

So Robin had an idea.

She stepped a little further into the room and put her hands together,“ So, El needs to practice.”

“Practice?” he quoted back to her, his confusion coming back quickly.

“Painting nails.” Robin clarified,” She wants to paint Max’s. I offered to do it for her, but she really wants to do it herself.”

“And, what does that have to do with me?”

Robin hummed her words and came in just a little closer,“ Well, you don’t really need your hands, you know? Can’t even move them very far at the moment, so…”

“No.” he stopped her quickly.

“Come on! You’re not busy right now!” she argued.

With a wave of his hands, as far as they could while he was under the charges and restrained, he threw back,“ Offer her yours!”

“Mine are already painted! Obviously!” she told him, flashing her maroon-tipped fingers at him with a stern face.

And then Eddie was silent.

Considering.

Could he really say no? Even if it was being said to Robin’s face, it was really being said to El. And the girl did save his life. And she was kind of his favorite. And he liked Little Red. And he felt pretty bad for both of them…

“Fine.” He gritted out through clenched teeth,” But I’ll only accept black polish. Nothing frilly, or you’ll mess up my vibe.”

“I assumed that would be your preference.” Robin smiled to herself, pulling a bottle of black nail polish out of her back pocket that she nabbed when she came up with the idea,“ El! Come on, he’s in!”

The girl timidly joined them, her own hands tucked into the sleeves of her sweatshirt as she came forward to Eddie’s bedside.

He splayed his hand out for her and dropped his voice to sing a line,” I want it painted blaaack~”

He was hoping for a smile. Or a laugh. Or just, something to let him know he was funny and making the situation entertaining. But she just looked at him with a blank expression. And then her eyes drifted up at Robin, who was pulling up another chair, like she was asking for help with the comment.

“Come on. The Rolling Stones,” he explained, because maybe she didn’t know their whole discography, but she had to at least know the name.

But nothing. She just looked back at him, not even a glint of recognition behind her eyes.

“Okay, seriously? The Rolling Stones? You don’t know The Rolling Stones? They aren’t my favorite or anything, but geez- have you been living under a rock, girlie? They’ve been makin’ music for like twenty years.”

Robin chastised him with a gentle smack to his shoulder for expecting the kid, who had never been outside of a lab until three years before, to know about any musical artists except for her favorites. The two girls were getting sat down side-by-side on Eddie’s right hand when Arygle and Erica came into the room. They made themselves at home in the other chairs on Eddie’s left side and watched what was playing, which turned out to be an episode of Scooby Doo, Where Are You!

It was slow work of the pair on his hand. Robin was showing El a comfortable way to hold it and get a good angle for the brush. Showing her how to wipe off the excess polish in the rim of the bottle, and how to start in the middle before working her way back and pulling it along the sides to make it clean and easy to keep on the nail.

“Doesn’t get very messy if you don’t stress and take your time. ’Course, if you do get outside the lines a bit, not a big deal.” She added and exemplified with his pointer finger, letting the brush barely slip over the side,” I just take my thumb and gently scrape the little bit off of the skin with my nail to fix up the edges, like this-”

“Ow!” Eddie complained and shot Robin a glare.

She ignored the dramatics to whisper to El,” It doesn’t really hurt-”

“Yes, it does,” he insisted,” You just dug your nail into my- my-” he struggled for the word.

“Your cuticle?” Robin finished for him.

“Yeah! And it’s pointy, Robin!”

She rolled her eyes at him,“ It doesn’t hurt, El. Boys are just wimps. Max’ll be way tougher than this patient. When you do hers, she won’t even feel it-”

Robin had said it quickly. Absentmindedly. For a second, forgetting that Max was in a coma and couldn’t feel anything at all. And El didn’t look like the words hit her too badly, but Robin started sputtering anyway.

“I mean, even if she was awake, she wouldn’t… Like, we all know Max is a tough cookie in her own right, and she’d be fine. And she will be fine! And girls really do handle things better! The whole ‘beauty is pain’ thing and- Boys really complain about this sorta stuff way more and…” she fizzled out of her defense and added one last note,” It really doesn’t hurt. Promise.”

El simply nodded back.

“Says you.” Eddie grumbled to himself,“ How many slumber parties you been to where they train you mini-torturers anyway?”

Robin shrugged and focused on holding his middle finger for El to try painting on,“ Oh, none. I just sometimes make Steve try colors out with me when I can’t pick one. But he’s antsy and always picks it off within the hour, so… I get lots of practice.”

“You’re lying,” he dismissed the idea quickly.

She just quirked an eyebrow at him with a quiet “Am I?” that left him wondering.

Before Eddie could consider her words much further, Argyle was leaning over to Erica and asking who she thought the bad guy was for this particular episode. Now, of course, he’d already seen it and remembered who was hiding under the mask. So did Robin and Eddie. But Erica thumbed at her chin and hummed while recounting some of the plot.

“Weighing the variables," she’d said.

And the conversation moved on. Robin passed Eddie’s hands into El’s so she could continue, and the room was alight with the discussion of a far simpler mystery than the one they had waiting for them in the real world. And El was shy about it for a bit. She hesitated to take his hand, and she was stiff and extra careful with it when she held it. Like his hands were delicate and fragile. But after a few minutes rolled by, she was sufficiently focused on her paint job, instead of the fact that the hand was connected to someone. She started to relax around them. Letting their conversation pass over her while she soaked it up. Listening, but not worried about answering herself.

It was comfortable and easy.

The rest of the crew was less so at comfort or at ease.

The folks who were sent off to the meeting had all gathered around a cement table with the slow traffic of townspeople around them. Some of them go inside. Some of them leave. Some of them were just milling about like they didn’t know what to do.

Nobody really knew what to do. This sort of tragedy wasn’t something Hawkins had ever been faced with. And even the people who knew what was really going on didn’t know exactly what to do.

They had the barebones of a game plan. The idea was to get some tapes set up so they had a shield or buffer between them and Vecna when they rode into battle. And the understanding that they needed to find a way to take to that fight as soon as possible, preferably before Vecna got himself fully pulled back together. But there wasn’t anything solid. Nothing to really stand on except shifting quicksand.

Which was a maddening reality.

Nancy was mad, in case no one noticed.

She kept finding herself mad, what felt like all the time.

It felt like she just had this hair trigger, and so many things set it off.

And now she was meeting with a woman who kept pissing her off. So surely she was going to get even madder within the next few minutes. But she was meeting up with her with Jonathan, Steve, Joyce, and Hopper by her side. And - if the way he kept his arms crossed and his expression sour after Nancy pointed out that they handed El back to Dr. Brenner was any hint - Hop would be right there with her on being pissed off. They also had Will and Mike. They tried to leave them behind, but they both insisted on coming with them.

They hadn’t been there waiting very long. Maybe ten or so minutes. Sitting silently together. Because they didn’t really have much to say to each other. Next to her, though, Mike sat with a bouncing knee.

Then, just as Nancy was thinking she would need to snap at her brother for being incapable of sitting still- three agents strolled up.

They were all dressed in uniformity: dark, neutral suits and trench coats, hats and sunglasses, glossy, black dress shoes, and the exact same silver watches on each of their wrists. They were headed by the same woman Nancy kept butting heads with. She walked in the middle while two men were just shortly behind. And she was the only one with a briefcase tight in her fixed grip. The other two didn’t have one, but when the wind whipped and their coats opened, she could catch sight of the holsters on their hips.

“This isn’t all of you,” the man on the left said in place of a greeting. He was a tall and lanky guy. Bushy eyebrows and slicked, jet-black hair that just barely poked out of his fedora.

“No. It’s not.” Hopper answered, though clearly not giving up the information the man wanted him to. Silently challenging the guy to push it. See how tough he really thought he was. Hop took a step forward and told him,” But it’s everyone you’re going to get. So, let’s talk.”

“Let’s.”

The woman cut between them, seeming to try and soften the tension, though Nancy felt like she did the opposite every time she’d seen her,“ Why don’t we start with what happened to you? It’s been months since you were presumed dead-”

“Eight months,” the guy on the right clarified. Shorter than the other. With a mop of dirty blonde on his head and a speckling of freckles across his cheeks.

Hop just shrugged and blew between his lips casually,“ Not much. Blew up the mall gate. Wasn’t enough to kill me. Russians came back. Found me. Smuggled me out. Threw me in a cell. Sat in prison til we snuck our way back over.”

“You say that like it’s simple-” the woman started.

“It’s the simplest part of this mess because it’s over and dealt with.” He declared,” So let’s skip to the next part: the bullshit happening right here, right now.”

And she didn’t really seem to like that answer. Probably something about paperwork and files that would be left blank or vague about his unaccounted-for time. But the blonde didn’t hold any argument.

“So, what do you know?” he asked, content with moving right along to the current shit show.

“We know there’s a problem in fair Verona. A disagreement.” Will spoke up. Having just covered the play in Lenora, the legendary dueling families were fresh on his mind. And the need to know if these people were friends or foes to his sister was one of the most urgent concerns he'd been thinking over time and time again.

And then, as if Mike was right there in his head, he continued the comparison,“ A disagreement about what to do with El. So, are you Montagues or Capulets?”

The woman rolled her eyes, and with an exasperated tone said,“ We’re in this with Dr. Owens. We know the girl didn’t cause all of this-”

“But we don’t know what did.” The blonde stepped forward to insist,” Care to enlighten us with what you’ve found out while you were running around?”

Nancy shifted in her seat,“ How much do you know about Dr. Brenner’s original experiment?”

“His data’s on a need-to-know basis,” he returned.

“So nothing? Or just about?” Nancy guessed. Enjoying just a little bit of how it felt to know more than them about the atrocities of their department’s precious scientist.

“The point?” the black-haired one pushed.

“Well - since it’s all ‘need-to-know’ at this point anyway - the first child he snatched for his superpowered kids game was Henry Creel. I assume you’ve at least looked into what happened at the Creel house a few decades ago considering the similarity in the recent murders?”

The woman gritted her teeth,“ Yes, we have-”

“Good.” Nancy steamrolled on through,” After those, the doctor got custody of him. Made him subject number one of his great experiment. Used him as the blueprint to try and replicate his… condition, in others. But, if the dead and tortured family was any indication, he wasn’t very stable. For some reason, or other, the doctor removed him from the experiment and kept him in the lab to keep an eye on him. Gave him an implant that suppressed his abilities. Henry didn’t like that. So when he got the implant out and had the opportunity to use them again, he killed over a dozen of the newer models and just about every member of staff at the lab.”

“El,” Mike jumped in,” was the one who stopped him from getting out by getting rid of him. She was stronger. Trapped him in the Upside Down all on her own. Practically by accident. On instinct. So he couldn’t hurt more people.”

“Sounds like a happy ending. Just one problem: what’s he been doing causing death and destruction over the course of these last two weeks then?” the taller man asked.

“It’s not been just these past two weeks. Every time we’ve had… an ‘event’ it’s been him trying to get back. Get back here.” Joyce informed.

Hop summarized the timeline,“ Three years ago, Dr. Brenner was pushing her, and she made contact in the Upside Down. Once Henry found out there that there must be a way to reopen that connection, he was. He’s been trying to claw a way back here and finish business. Which we’re all pretty keen on not letting him do.”

“Why- What does he want to do that we can’t let happen? If he’s just trying to come back, why doesn’t El just open the door and let him through so all the other things stop mixing in?” the woman asked, rubbing her temples.

“He wants to destroy everything,” Nancy answered. Cold. Remembering what he showed her. His promise for what he’d do.

The air of the conversation shifted. The three of them were finally starting to understand the stakes at play this time.

“It wasn’t just about hurting the people in the lab that made him a prisoner. He wants to get rid of all of it.” Jonathan explained a little further.

“What would he even gain from that?”

Nancy took back over,“ He thinks humanity is a failure. A calamity with faults so deeply ingrained in us that the only choice is to start creation, civilization, all over again. In his image of what’s right and natural, of course.”

“And- where do we stand with this? With keeping this from happening?”

“He needed to take four lives to open the gate and get back onto this side. We met him in the Upside Down while he was staking out Max and lit his ass up.” Steve answered with a slight nudge to Nancy’s shoulder for being the one to fire the buckshot right into his ugly mug.

“But it wasn’t enough.” She admitted,” Max died. And he disappeared when the gate opened, but El kept her from staying dead, so the gate snapped shut again. We don’t know what happened after that. He could be in some kind of limbo between dimensions, or hiding out somewhere here, or still on the other side. We just don’t know. Will can’t feel him.”

The blonde looked at the boy,“ You can’t?”

Will shook his head,“ Not like the last times he’s come back. He’s not totally there, sparking things up again. But he’s not gone. He’s still there, just… small, and- and it’s like he’s curled up in some corner. Putting himself back together.”

“And what happens when he’s got himself straightened out?” the other man asked, unkept eyebrows raised.

Nancy let out a remorseful huff,“ Best guess is he tries to brute force the gate back open with Max’s half-death. Or he’ll try to reach back over and finish the job. Maybe even go after someone new if he has to, but he doesn't like losing, so surely he wants to get at Max.”

“Which we won’t let happen.” Steve needed to say.

The agents looked… off-kilter. Like they’d been rocked off of their foundation for the first time. The first real surprise. They were used to dealing with weird things. Unusual, inexplicable things. Dangerous things. But this was a whole new ball game, and there were finally getting a lay of just how messed up the land was this time.

“And what of the NINA Project?” the woman steered the conversation, wanting to finish fleshing out where they all stood within the organization.

“We didn’t stick around long. But what we did see was a lot of bodies, a lot of fire, a helicopter fell out of the sky… and Dr. Brenner can’t hurt El anymore.” Jonathan filled in.

“Dr. Owens?”

“Didn’t see him.” Will said,” We’ve been telling El to take it easy after the fight and trying to find One again, so she hasn’t tried to find him yet, but she doesn’t know what happened. Didn’t see him after Brenner drugged her.”

“But the girl, the project itself, it was successful…?”

Mike confirmed,“ Her powers are back. Stronger than they were when they went away. But that doesn’t mean that this will just get taken care of with a snap of her fingers when we find him. She threw everything she had at him-”

Nancy threw in,“ While the rest of us were risking our lives doing the same-”

“-And all that didn’t finish him off. Somehow, he’s still kicking. And he’s going to keep trying to get back over here if we can’t take the fight to him and end it for real.”

The three agents were silent for a minute. Processing, if the locals had to guess. Trying to figure out what it all meant and what options they had. They all looked deflated by the time the woman spoke up.

“What’s the plan?”

“Wow, you don’t have one for us? Shocker.” Nancy cut out.

“We-”

“It’s so surprising that you are, yet again, useless.”

Joyce put her hand over Nancy’s to try and soothe her,” We’ll figure it out.”

The woman sounded humbled, quieter, when she next asked,“ What can we do?”

And maybe that was it.

Maybe that’s what Nancy has been waiting to see. To see them accept it, just accept that they messed up. Accept that they didn’t have all the answers. That they were wrong. They didn’t say it outright. That was probably lesson one when they joined the supernatural clean-up crew: Not admitting culpability.

But that silence. And the question that followed.

It did something. Took some pressure off the hair-trigger of Nancy’s rage. Because it meant she’d been justified before. She was right and now they knew it.

She took a breath and calmly asked,“ Can you bankroll a trip to the RadioShack and wherever else we go to for supplies?”

And the woman nodded,“ We can do that."

“And Eddie and Max’s hospital bills,” Mike added.

“And when two more come to town, we need to get their citizenship worked out.” Joyce considered the Antonov’s.

“And find a way to make sure the California Stowaways don’t have any problems trying to graduate after this mess.” Jonathan thought for himself and Argyle.

“And, if you hear anything from Dr. Sam, you let us know. You let us know if you hear anything about unexplainable earthquakes, demo-murders, or general Upside Down related business. The minute you know. So we all stay on the same page.” Nancy spoke.

“And whatever Max wants when she wakes up, she gets. Period.” Steve added.

Jim pointed out,“ And guns. We’d like more guns.”

Nancy quickly agreed,“ I second the vote for guns.”

Which brought a smile to Hop’s face. That girl was something all her own.

“We’ll start working on things.” The man on the right said after he was done jotting things down in a notepad.

The three agents nodded a silent agreement and were about to walk away when the sight sparked something for Nancy.

“This is it?”

“What?” the woman asked her.

“This. The three of you. This is all of you that’s left. Isn’t it?”

The teens and two parents looked at her and then between the agents when they didn’t have a thing to say for themselves.

Jonathan questioned it next,“ Is she right?”

“We-” the leftie was about to lie when the woman cut him off for the simple truth.

“There are two others still working on contacting any of the team that might’ve made it out of the NINA Project. But besides that, this is all. We’re it.”

“You used to be dozens with a fleet of vans…” Mike wondered in shock, remembering the insurmountable difficulty they’d been to dodge three years before.

“The Capulets have made times difficult for the Montagues. We got stretched thin, and most of us that were trustworthy enough to stay on the force on Owen’s side went to work at the bunker in Nevada. The rest of us came out here when things started looking hairy. Which… isn’t a comforting reality, I’m sure. But, if you focus on fine-tuning that wishlist so we can be done with Fair Verona as a whole, maybe we still have a chance at getting out of this play better than the lovers did.”

Nobody really knew what to say. But the woman stepped forward and spoke directly to Nancy for her last lines.

“We’ll keep you updated with what we know, and you do the same. We haven’t gotten along well, up until this point. But we all want this to be over. And we all want to suffer as little damage as possible. We don’t have to be adversaries in getting across the finish line.”

Nancy met her gaze. And for the first time, she wasn’t so furious at the green staring down at her.

“Agreed.”

And then they were gone. Packed into black cars and driving off to “deal with business.”

And Nancy found herself left with… a vacancy where her anger had sat. She still had plenty to be mad about, but the focus of it that she had temporarily shifted onto the government suits was now gone. And she was left dissatisfied. And the hollow feeling wasn’t enough. It didn’t sit in her, filling her up and taking up her attention, like the anger did. And then she had to wonder if she might’ve made the whole mess worse than it needed to be. At least a little bit.

They were wrong for being in Hawkins and not saying anything, yes.

They were wrong for letting El suffer Dr. Brenner’s experiments again, yes.

They were wrong for taking down to her before, yes.

But she turned them into a big, evil monster in her head that they simply weren’t. They weren’t the monster they had to defeat at the end of the day. But maybe she’d decided they were because they got in her way enough and were something she could fight against while Vecna remained a big question mark in her notebook.

So maybe she’d been unnecessarily mean, fostered animosity between them because it felt better to have a reason. It felt better to have something to be mad at and yell in the face of.

Maybe she should be worried that it felt better to be mad at people who didn’t completely deserve it than to not have anything to do with herself.

“Welp,” Hopper clapped his hands on his legs and stood up, interrupting her train of thought,” I have a Chief of Police to soften up.”

“Bribery?” Joyce asked him, just a hint of judgment in her tone. Not much, though.

“If it works.”

After a little while, El had moved on to Eddie’s other hand. She was far more comfortable with holding it and painting along his short nails as she was reaching the end of her work. There was some discussion happening around her. Not one that she’d been paying much attention to for the last few minutes. She had followed along earlier. But over the last little bit of time, she’s had a question buzzing around her mind she really wanted to ask that was distracting her.

“Eddie?” she spoke quietly, not wanting to stop the room’s talk even if she was stealing his attention for a minute.

He looked away from Argyle’s lackadaisical questions about life growing up in rural Indiana he’d been posing for everyone over the last twenty minutes. She hadn’t looked at him when she spoke, kept her eyes fixed on the pinky finger in her hold as she started its first coat.

“Yeah, angel?”

She hesitated, swallowing to steel herself before she just tried to push it out,“ Dustin said… he said they call you ‘freak’ too?”

And maybe the words themselves would’ve sounded like a statement. But from her, they were certainly a question. And they sounded like just the tip of an iceberg. Because she said “too.” And she said it softly and ashamed.

Someone made her feel that way.

“Does someone call you that?” he asked, voice gentle as he could make it. The other three in the room pretended like they couldn’t hear them, instead trying to paint a picture for the Californian of the divisive political nightmare that was the Starcourt mall when it was built the summer before.

El didn’t answer though. Just kept her gaze on sweeping the black polish down his nail. Lips tight together with a slight, barely perceptible tremor that said all too much.

With a sigh, Eddie pulled on the part of his character that he thought might help.

“Well, for the record,” he started, bringing himself all high and mighty against her sullen expression,” over here they call me ‘The Freak.’ So, like, the freakiest freak of them all, you know. I get it. I am a freak. I’m weird and off and certifiably freaky, and I like it. But, you little lady? You ain’t no freak. You’re super normal.”

She giggled at the idea. Couldn’t help herself. Eddie must’ve had her figured all wrong to say something like that.

“What?” He wondered, playfully dropping his head to the side to look at her,” People never tell the kiddo with magic powers she’s normal?”

She cast her eyes up at him as if to ask “What do you think?” before quickly putting them back on their task.

He shrugged it off,“ I mean, sure, the magic power part is, admittedly, a little off the baseline. I won’t lie. And the haircut. But I’d say that makes you way cooler than everyone else. I was rocking the tight buzz myself once upon a time, and not everyone can make it work like the two of us do. But besides those two very small factors, you seem like just any other little girl to me. Way more normal than miss Erica over there. First time I met her, she was already lecturing me about venomous knives-”

“It was one poisoned kukri,” she corrected, unable to keep the comment to herself.

He lowered his voice and leaned in,“ See what I mean? But you? Nah, you’re just fine.”

She finally looked up and held his eyes,“ Fine?”

And he smiled back at her, as bright and assured as he could manage,“ Yeah. Just fine. And even if you were a freak like me, you’d still be fine. I’d accept you into my beloved kingdom and show you that being a freak isn’t bad. It’s actually a whole lot of fun. I know we’re still new to each other, but will you trust me on that much? As a freak speaking from experience on it?”

And she looked kind of like a weight had been lifted off of her. One she’s carried for so long with no idea how to understand. No idea how to get rid of or come to terms with.

But somehow, being told she was normal, even when it still didn’t quite fit… it felt better than all the times Mike called her his superhero.

She was different. No amount of “but it’s special” ever got rid of the feeling that there was something wrong with her. And for so long, she would’ve given anything not to be the way she was. And yet, here this guy was. This near stranger that told her he didn’t find her all that weird. That he didn’t find it impossible to look past the things the lab did to her.

It felt nice. To try and believe him for a minute. To pretend like “normal” would be an option after they shut the door on the Upside Down for good.

And maybe one day she’ll be able to believe she doesn’t need it anyway. Decide that normal was fine and all, but she can also be a freak and still be just as fine because she chose to enjoy it. Eddie seemed happy enough in it. Even handcuffed to a hospital bed and having just escaped death, he was still loving being a freak.

“Yeah,” she decided. She’d trust his advice. Why not? It felt way better than the alternative.

“Good,” he remarked before splaying his hand to view for himself,” And thank you for my bitchin’ claws, kid. I’m sure Little Red’s set’ll look great too.”

“Thanks…” she smiled a little wider, capping the black polish and setting it down on the table by the bright orange they’d brought for Max’s.

“Of course. Surprise, surprise, she’s good at more than just saving lives. Though I doubt I’ll ever really get over the fact that you saved mine, you know. You would not believe the hell I’d have tried to raise if I died before I got to see Ozzy live.”

“Ozzy?” she asked, tilting her head with the inquisition.

And if he weren’t laid up and chained in place, Eddie would’ve tried to fling himself to the floor with a gasp.

“Another person who doesn’t know about the one and only Ozzy? God- you people are killing me here!” he groaned and writhed in his bed for effect, pulling another giggle out of the girl at his side while the rest of the room playfully rolled their eyes at his antics.

“Wasn’t sure you’d show.” Police Chief Powell said as Jim pushed in what used to be his door.

At least, it had been until he went and got himself abducted, of course. Now it was Calvin’s. And he sat behind the desk wearing a face that Hopper probably guessed he’s worn before. Long nights, early mornings, shit getting kicked up faster than a town as small as theirs had any right to. He remembers being in that spot and feeling just as exhausted as Calvin looked.

He strode in with the confidence that said that office was still his in some way,” Said I would.”

“Yeah, but you always hated mornings at the station. Came in late as often as you could.” Powell pointed out.

Jim smiled and shook his head,“ You got me there. But I’m here, with coffee, as promised.”

He passed over the cheap paper cup. Took his seat in the chair opposite him while the man popped off the lid and shook out a few packets of sugar, definitely stolen from the break room and squirreled away in his desk drawer.

“Still got a sweet tooth?” he teased and sipped on his own cup, black and bitter.

The man raised an eyebrow at him while he stirred it around,“ You weren’t gone that long, you know.”

Jim had to give it to him,” Guess not. Not long enough for you to grow out of it, at least.”

They drank from their cups in a familiar, comfortable silence while Jim looked around the room. It was mostly the same. He’d never decorated much, so there wasn’t much to be taken down or changed. Same knots in all the wood grain. Same dents and scratches in the walls. Same scraps under the chair legs. New name on the nameplate, though. New man in the chair. New computer set up in front of him, big and clunky and off-white. Jesus Christ, Jim’s happy he involuntarily gave up the job before they’d made him regularly use one of those things, at least.

But, thinking of chiefly duties…

“Well, Cal, how’s it looking for the kid?” Jim brought up.

He looked at him for a second and asked, waving his cup to him,“ How do you even know Eddie Munson all that well? You’ve been gone for eight months, Jim. And while you were still here, we never busted him for the drugs.”

Jim settled back in the chair further and recounted,“ I told him to quit it a time or two, but didn’t want to make a fuss on his record about it. Never caught him in the act, and only ever with a baggie of pot on him.”

He took another sip and continued,“ But, besides that, I just want to see something done right by him. By this whole mess, I’ve heard about. I can’t explain how I know that what all the kids are saying is the truth. That he’s innocent. But I just do. Would stake my life on it. He didn’t do anything to the girl or those boys.”

Powell almost nodded to the fact, given what they’d been working on uncovering over the last few days,“ Well, we’ve been investigating the case based on their testimonies…”

He let his words trail off, but Hop was impatient for some good news.

“And?”

Powell met his eyes, and with a tone of near-disbelief, he admitted,“ We haven’t found a single shred of evidence to suggest they’re lying about it. Nothing beyond the locations of the murders speaks to Eddie having had anything to do with it. And while the kids could’ve had time to coordinate their stories with each other, the others we’ve interviewed couldn't have. And with the background we’ve dug up on the victims… The claim that this was all a huge mess perpetrated by Jason Carver as he kept digging himself a deeper hole to cover his tracks… it’s the more plausible theory between the two. Way more than the idea that Eddie just went crazy all of a sudden and convinced so many people to cover for him this well.”

“So you’re saying…?”

“We can’t charge a dead man with the crimes. Can’t detain him and interrogate him while we look for more evidence.” Powell pointed out, regretfully,” But we can drop Eddie from the suspect list. Take the cuffs off him, make an announcement, and turn him loose.”

“That’s good news, Cal. I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear it.”

“Oh, I’m sure. Better than sending him to the clink for something he didn’t do just to satisfy this town’s thirst for blood.”

“Aint that the truth.”

There was almost time for another silence to fall around them. But Calvin had a question to pose before it settled very long.

“So, what’ll you do now that you’re back?”

And it probably should’ve been a scary question. The prospect of the unknown. A whole slew of decisions to make now that his life’s been so completely thrown off-track. He probably should’ve already had some idea of a plan in place for what he’d return to without the walls of a Soviet prison making all the choices for him.

“I have no clue.” he honestly answered instead.

“What? Don’t want to get rehired back here at the station?”

“And do this grunt work?” They shared a hearty chuckle that spoke to all their years of complaining about both having not enough and way too much to do before he explained,” Nah. I don’t know what I’ll do, but I think I’m tired of trying to make this whole damn town my responsibility.”

“You think you already have enough of it with that kid of yours?”

Fondness crept its way into his face,“ Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“How did that even happen? I feel like I had no clue you were even looking to adopt, much less had a kid already when you died and she was moving away with Joyce.”

“That’s a crazy story, Cal. Crazier than the shit that’s gone on here in recent days, I swear. But, uh, she’s mine. And she means everything to me. And I don’t want to do anything except be a good dad for her now. A job just seems like a waste of precious time.”

Powell brought his hands together and wistfully sighed,“ I hear ya…”

“What? Chief ain't treating you right? Wasn’t all it cracked up to be?”

“Don’t you make it sound like I’m whining about it. Wasn’t too much more to deal with until all this shit hit the fan. But this shit has been…”

“Hell on earth?” Jim supplied.

“Exactly. Slept either here or in the cruiser more nights than I did at home. I think the Missus is just about ready to march in here and drag me back into the cold side of the bed I left her with.”

Jim’s eyes snapped to his with more attention,“ Missus? So you and Wendy?”

“Finally tied the knot,” he pulled back his hand to reveal the wedding band on his left ring finger that he’d been twisting.

“Wow, been waiting on you to do it, what, six years now? And you up and decide to commit while I’m gone.”

“I ‘up and decided to commit’ because you were gone. Seeing you here one day and then just - poof - not anymore… Thought about taking up your badge and if the same thing happened to me… I was done wasting time.” Powell detailed the whole affair for the man who missed it,” So I bought the ring and proposed that same month. She spent forever on the phone, planning the whole thing out with her sister. Got married in December. Honeymooned over Christmas and New Year's.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It was. And, in a way, I had you to thank.”

Jim shook his head at that,“ Nah, you woulda wisened up one of these days. With or without me.”

“Maybe. But why don’t you tell me when you’re going to wisen up.”

“What does that mean?”

“You think the whole you-and-Joyce thing is subtle?”

They shared another laugh before Jim conceded,” No, I guess it isn’t.”

“You gave her your kid, Jim! That’s nearly grounds for an engagement right there.”

“Don't start talking like that, or I’ll get ideas and scare her off, Cal. We haven’t even had a single date yet.”

He was a little taken aback,“ Didn’t you two…? Back in high school?”

“No. Never.” Hopper corrected him,” We just ran into each other a lot, hung out cutting class sometimes…”

Powell didn’t really look like he believed him, but he let it slide to check him,” But now you’ll get a move on?”

“I guess now I owe it to her to get a move on. Already made her wait eight months for a damn dinner.”

Cal whistled,” Oh yeah, sounds like you best get a move on.”

“How ‘bout you do the same?” He said while he got up,” I’m sure that the kid’d like to know he’s a free man as soon as possible. You promised me you wouldn’t drag your feet on this.”

Powell stood up with him,“ And I’m not. Just waiting for Flo to let me know the machine’s done spitting out the official report. Then I'll be headed out to get started on cleaning things up.”

Before Jim turned to leave, he asked,“ Could I ask you for another favor?”

“What do you want from me now?”

“Nancy Wheeler. She’d been writing up the story on what happened for the school newspaper. She’s the only one with the inside scoop, has both the Munsons talking to her, and the most in-depth coverage of both the during and after of the arrest.”

“That’s good for her.”

“It is.” He agreed,” And if her's got to be the first article announcing that the charges have been dropped, before even the tv crews do, it’d go a long way for her resume down the line."

“I’ll bet it would."

"Especially since she'll have to help spearhead women in investigative journalism in the first place.”

"I never did like the press... But you tell her she can stop by and get a quote. As long as none of the other kids get in the way of it, she can get her story printed before morning news runs with it tomorrow.”

“I will. Thank you. Really. I’m happy to know the seat I left empty got filled by someone fit to sit in it.”

“God, what’d they do to you while you were gone?” Powell rounded the desk to stand next to him,” You’ve gone all sappy and soft in your time off.”

Jim bumped against his shoulder,“ Let’s just call it gettin’ old and leave it at that.”

“And see, I would've bet good money you’d be one of them crotchety things. Screaming from your front porch at everyone who dares pass by.”

“I woulda bet on it too. Now look at me.”

“It’s a good look on you. Enjoy it.”

Then, Flo burst through the doors, thumbing through freshly printed papers and eyeing them through her glasses instead of looking up,“ Your paperwork is all done, Chie- Jim? How are- When did you slip in?”

“Flo,” he greeted simply with a smile to the woman who practically kept that department running by being the biggest pain in his ass the entire time.

She tucked herself against his side in a quick hug, turns out working with someone for about eight years mean they miss you a little bit. Who would have guessed?

She held the papers into her chest and reached out to shove at his shoulder,“ I’m almost scared to ask if this is someone’s stupid idea of an April Fool’s joke.”

“It’s April first?” Jim asked, looking at the calendar on the wall that was fully crossed off but hadn’t been flipped to the new month yet.

“Sure is,” she confirmed while Powell took the hint to change it.

“Thanks for reminding me…” Jim thought of something for a minute,” I’ll be heading off. Was good catching up.”

With Eddie’s hands all painted, Argyle found himself the only one in the room without. He’d held out his hand for Erica and asked if she thought he’d look cute with shimmery pink nails like hers. Which made all of them laugh. But she said it didn’t exactly fit his vibe, so he then turned to all of the girls and was letting them debate what kind of color they’d put him in if they could. There were a few ideas of a mossy green, or a peachy orange, or maybe a daffodil yellow when Hop’s voice cracked through the walkie they’d perched on the windowsill of the hospital room.

“Hey, any rotten kids around?”

Robin leaned over and snatched it off the ledge,” Rotten kids one through five checking in. What’s the word on the construction for gallows in the town square?”

“Just spoke to Cal on how the case is looking,” was all he answered.

Robin took a look around the room with a stilted expression,“ And? What’d he say?”

There was no response.

“Hello? Requesting status on the conflict between Ex-Chief, Jim Hopper, and Current Chief, Calvin Powell?” she joked.

Hop’s voice came back in a low rumble,“ I’m real sorry, kid…”

All at once, Eddie felt his stomach plummet through the tile floor.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

They’d been joking around and having fun all morning… he forgot for a minute that things don’t always just turn out. They usually didn’t before he found out the world was ending, but his luck hadn’t been so bad recently. He cheated death and made some new friends, but it seemed the legal system was going to be a fouler beast to defeat.

Shit.

Jim continued,“ They’ve been digging through everything, but it’s just not enough to convince them…”

Robin shook her head as his voice faded out. She looked back up at the accused man and remained defiant,“ Don’t worry, Eddie. We- we can keep trying to figure this out. We’re not going to quit on you and we aren’t going to let them chuck you behind bars for the rest of your life. Okay? Well… We’ll put together a petition! Or gather a protest! Or- We have Nance’s paper she’s gonna publish! We’ll get people on your side and figure something out. We won’t give up on-”

But the radio cut right through her,“ I just can’t get ‘em to put you in prison stripes.”

And everything stopped.

Eddie's heart stopped beating, his lungs stopped breathing, the whole fucking Earth stopped spinning under him.

“Wait-” Robin asked herself before remembering to pull the walkie up to her face and click the button,“ What?”

The next time Hopper’s voice came through, they could hear the grin he was trying to fight back,“ He’s on his way down now to tell you officially, but the Hawkins Police Department is dropping the charges. Congratulations. You buncha deviants did a good job showin’ ‘em all what’s what.”

“Are you kidding?!” Eddie’s voice rang through the room, Robin having clicked down the button in time for Jim to catch most of it.

“What? Nobody’s ever heard of an April Fool’s joke?” he asked.

“Most April Fool’s jokes aren’t supposed to make the victim die of a heart attack!” the man yelled, voice rising in pitch.

“He’s still breathing ain’t he?”

“Oh my god- as if that even makes it okay to tell a guy he’s going to be prosecuted for like a hundred murders-”

“It would’ve been three, maybe four, and an assault at most, Eddie,” Robin tried to remind him, setting down and forgetting the walkie on the table.

“They would’ve sentenced me to like a hundred years, Robin!” he argued back.

“I just told you we would’ve figured it out-”

“I’ll take that as a yes. So, he’ll be fine.” Jim assumably answered the silence he received.

El took the walkie herself to tell him,” Was still a mean joke.”

“You kids need to lighten up. Yeesh. Nobody around here knows how to have any fun anymore.”

Eddie’s room filled up after that. Nancy, Steve, Mike, and Will arrive shortly after, just barely beating Chief Powell. He went over all the news with Eddie and the officer there. They undo his cuffs and explain that he won’t even have a misdemeanor for the drug distribution he admitted to at the end of the day. And since Nancy was right there, she got his statement and would get to send out her papers before the news channels ran an official announcement. If he faced any harassment despite it, though, the Hawkins Police department would help him out.

Then the rest of Hellfire showed up. Dustin and Lucas, along with Jeff, Gareth, Bruce, and Josie. Those four were particularly relieved to see him okay after everything. Not having received any update between Jason’s “Where’s Eddie?” interrogation and “Eddie Munson; Prime Suspect” and “Eddie’s in the hospital” they got from the boys that same morning. They were just saying their hellos when a nurse came in and tried to show them out.

“Awe, but we were celebrating,” Dustin complained to her.

She just looked down at him and hummed,“ Well, I’m sure Mr. Munson would prefer that we checked over everything privately. Like getting that catheter removed. Am I correct?”

Eddie didn’t hesitate to erupt with a pointed finger towards the door,“ Everybody, get the fuck out! Now!”

They got him taken care of and returned his things, but kept him in the hospital gown and hooked up to the IV.

They weren’t letting him out just yet. Turned out that when you nearly die of blood loss, the medical community likes to hold on to you. Make sure the wounds start healing over well, and there wouldn't be any deficits before the guy could start strolling about town. Who knew.

They decided to keep him until the end of the week, just to be safe.

In any news, they let his friends back in to annoy him. And, if Max’s mother signed some moving paperwork, she’d get wheeled into his room to share the rest of his stay with her the next morning. Hellfire made plans to camp out with him sometime and hold a one-shot around his bedside. Even roped newly returned Will Byers in agreeing to play, even though he didn’t know the rest of the club and was a little nervous.

When four o’clock hit, his uncle arrived and pulled him out of the bed for a real hug after the room emptied out.

Everyone else scampered off home, save for Robin, Nancy, and Steve.

They went to the school and used Nancy’s key to the newsroom to format her release and get Steve’s story for it. He sat on the light table while Robin threw questions at him. And they argued about how exactly he should word his answers the whole time Nancy typed away at the computer. They were crammed together working on it for a few hours, easily. And then they gathered up by the printer and folded hundreds of copies of the account. Using the school’s dime and credentials to get the news out as quickly as possible with at least a little reliability.

They were filling up milk crates from the cafeteria with stacks of them and loading them up into the Surfer Boy Pizza van when Jonathan and Argyle stopped by. The pair ran them around town and packed them into the newspaper boxes, even though technically they weren’t supposed to. Steve and Robin ran a few of them around the homes of people they knew were in a lot of the local groups and communities and would spread the word the fastest, and to Eddie’s neighbors. Those of them that were still at the trailer park.

Nancy dropped off copies in the mailboxes of some of the businesses for them to see first thing in the morning: the Hawkins’ Post and local news station, particularly. And then she dropped off a bunch of enveloped ones at the post office like they had when they released the tape about Barb less than two years before. To correct the brigade they’d been running with over the last week.

By the time the sun came back up, it should be on a world that believed Eddie was innocent. Or at least could be convinced of it soon.

As they were finishing up their rounds and headed back towards Robin’s house for drop-off, Steve stopped by his mailbox. He’d forgotten to for the last few days, and when they were about to pass it by, he figured he should grab anything while he was thinking about it before he came back later and forgot again.

There was a little bit that built up. Nearly all of it was addressed to his parents. But there was one letter with Steve’s name on it. Sent from the Family Video Headquarters in Glenview, Illinois.

“What…?” he mumbled to himself when he saw it.

“Come on, Steve,” Robin called from the rolled-down window,” Let’s get me home, so my parents don’t try to find new reasons to disapprove of our treasured friendship.”

“Just a second.”

Steve tore open the envelope right there, standing outside by his mailbox with the others tucked under his arm. When he pulled out the papers inside, they certainly held a surprise of a completely different kind. Not the stuff he got surprised with earlier that week. Not supernatural, end of days stuff. Instead, the mail spoke of incredibly mundane, and yet totally shocking stuff.

“Holy shit…”

Robin perked up at his expression while he read the paper“ Steve? What is it?”

He didn’t even look up for the paper when he quietly sputtered,“ I’m the manager…”

“What?” Robin knocked her head to the side and opened the door. Stepping out onto the street and rounding the car to join him.

“I-” he tried to start, then switched gears and looked at her,” Keith skipped town. So did half the staff. It’s just you, me, and Alex left in Hawkins now. Family Video sent the letter to me because I’m older and have the most hours on the schedule. They can’t convince anyone else to move out here to take over the building since Hawkins is so cursed in the public eye. So I- I’m the manager now.”

Her eyes fell to the paper, and she parroted his first thought,“ Holy shit…”

“We’re supposed to re-open on Friday and try to get things back in business.”

After… everything… that was so out of left field.

“April Fools?” Robin tried.

“They sent over the rest of the keys and instructions…“ Steve separated the open letter from the stapled packet behind it and held up the three new keys he had. For the office door, locked filing cabinet, and emergency exit.

“So, not April Fools…” Robin looked at the official paperwork and reminded him,” Steve. You don’t know how to run a store.”

Which, yes, was true. Steve did not know how to run a store. But the thing was that Steve and Robin never did any work truly on their own. So he looked back up at her and emphasized how absolutely tied together they were in it.

“We don’t know how to run a store.” he corrected.

“We don’t know how to run a store.” she agreed.

“We’ll have to figure it out…”

[kthologue]

then and now — gojo satoru

synopsis. only satoru gojo would be jealous of himself.

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, mentions of pregnancy, time travel inaccuracies probably, not proofread :x

you’re not quite sure how you ended up here.

one minute, you were curled up in bed, fighting a wave of nausea courtesy of the growing child of the strongest inside of you. the next, you were wandering toward the kitchen, wondering what was taking your husband so long to bring you the damn breakfast he promised — only to find him standing rigid in front of the stove, staring down…

himself.

you blink.

twice.

“satoru, what’s taking so long—”

your voice dies in your throat the second your eyes land on him. no — not him, but a younger, wide-eyed, hopelessly awe-struck version of him. standing in your kitchen, mouth parted, face pale, and gaze locked entirely on you.

you freeze.

he stares.

you stare back.

and then—oh no—he starts to smile. bright. dopey. disbelieving. there might actually be drool.

the younger gojo looks at you like you’re made of stars and everything he’s ever wanted in life, and you’re only in your husband’s oversized tee shirt. 

he looks like he’s about to fall in love with you on the spot.

then comes your gojo.

he appears behind you like summoned by jealousy itself, pressing flush against your back, arms encircling you. his chin hooks over your shoulder as he narrows his eyes at his teenage self with all the warning.

“oi,” your husband growls low, “eyes off my wife, you brat.”

the trance breaks instantly.

“what the hell—she’s my wife too!” younger gojo snaps, voice cracking in disbelief.

“like hell she is,” your husband shoots back, his hand sliding possessively down to cradle the swell of your belly. “i put a baby in her.”

you choke on air.

teen gojo’s eyes drop down—

—and bug out.the younger gojo is practically gaping, his eyes wide in disbelief, as he stares between you and your husband. "y-you let this man impregnate you?!" he blurts out, the crudeness making you flush with heat.

you feel the immediate rush of embarrassment. “i—how— satoru, explain.”

both of them whip their heads around at the mention of his name, as if they were no more than dogs waiting for a command.

your husband rubs your back, “i guess my younger self must have managed to travel to the future.”

you’re gaping at the two men.

the younger version of him is practically wagging his tail, a wide grin tugging at his lips like he’s just won first place in something that actually mattered. he looks completely lost in his own world to understand his future self’s subtle jab, and you could swear you hear him whispering under his breath, breathless and giddy—“i did it, i did it, i did it.”

“ah,” you slowly try to rationalize. “satoru, i know this might seem strange, but—”

“no, no,” your husband cuts you off with a tight squeeze around your waist, leaning slightly into you. “i’m satoru. he’s just gojo.” his tone makes it clear who he thinks should have the honor of the name, but his attention never leaves his younger self, and the muscles in his jaw are flexing.

the younger gojo squints, confused, then his face contorts with a mix of irritation and amusement. “since when did i become so uptight?”

your husband snorts. "yeah, well, you have a lot of growing up to do."

the younger gojo mutters, crossing his arms and leaning back, his posture almost defensive. "i get it. you put on the blindfold and suddenly you're mr. 'i've got it all figured out.'"

the tension in the room thickens, palpable between the two men.

"yeah," the older gojo retorts, voice steady but tinged with a bit of pride. "and i also got the girl of my dreams."

the younger gojo’s eyes narrow, his voice rising, "she’s my dream girl too!"

the older gojo shifts, locking his gaze on his younger self. his expression hardens, becoming a little sharper. "she’s my wife. not yours."

you sigh, exasperated, stepping between them. “oh, for heaven’s sake. you’re both the same person. you’re arguing with yourself.”

younger gojo leans forward slightly, eyes fixed on you. “i could love you just as much as he does, you know.”

your husband scoffs, clearly unimpressed. “please. you don’t even know what to do with her yet.”

“try me.”

“enough!” you snap, your glare cutting through the air like a blade. there’s no mistaking the warning in your eyes, a silent promise that things are about to escalate if they don’t stop.

both satorus fall silent in an instant as they both straighten at your words.

“me and the baby are starving,” you declare, your tone laced with a hint of challenge. “and if neither of you plans on helping, i guess i’ll have to do it myself.”

the younger satoru’s eyes flicker to your growing belly, then back to you.

in an instant, they’re both at your side, moving in synchrony like two halves of a whole, each hand hovering near you, as if they could protect you from something, but you know the truth. it’s not about protection. it’s about proximity—about the excuse to touch you.

“you know,” the younger satoru murmurs, a playful glint in his eyes, “you’re even more beautiful now. who would've thought you could get hotter?”

your breath catches at the unexpected compliment, and before you can stop it, your cheeks flush, a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the heat of the room. “t-thank you,” you mutter, not quite looking at him, trying to hide the effect his words have on you.

your husband, who’s been standing just behind you, makes no attempt to hide his irritation. his gaze sharpens, but his voice remains smooth, controlled—too controlled. “it’s no surprise, of course,” he says, his hand sliding around your waist in a possessive gesture, pulling you a little closer, a subtle but undeniable claim. “you’ve always been breathtaking. she’s glowing, don’t you think?”

you feel his lips brush against your temple as he says it, and though his words are directed at the younger satoru, they’re meant for you—just the two of you, wrapped in this small, intimate moment. his grip tightens ever so slightly, a silent declaration of ownership that you can feel in your bones.

“thank you, dear,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, but there’s a flicker in your chest that betrays you—something more than just appreciation for the compliment.

as you open the fridge, you don’t notice the younger gojo’s subtle frown at the pet name, nor the way your husband’s chest puffs just a little, satisfaction practically radiating off him. but you do feel it. the electricity. the unspoken challenge. and you can’t help but wonder which of them will break first.

the clink of chopsticks and the sound of your satisfied hums fill the room as the three of you eat breakfast, the tension at the table simmering beneath the surface. the younger gojo eyes the older version of himself from across the table, suspicion flickering behind his sharp gaze.

he sets his bowl down slowly.

“so tell me,” he says finally, chopsticks tapping against ceramic. “how’d you do it?”

the older gojo raises a brow. “do what?”

younger gojo tilts his head pointedly in your direction. “get her. my [name] doesn’t want to do anything with me.”

your husband doesn’t miss a beat. he smirks, annoyingly smug, and drapes his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side like a trophy. “i charmed the living daylights out of her. obviously.”

you give him a flat look. 

your husband ignores you. “she thought i was endearing.”

“i thought you were desperate,” you add with a sly smile.

he turns toward you, hand over his heart like he’s been shot. “desperation? is that what we’re calling devotion now?”

“you were on both knees when you proposed,” you point out, smug.

“i really wanted you to say yes,” he mutters, now clearly sulking. he stabs at his food like it personally offended him.

across the table, the younger gojo leans in, chin propped in one hand as he watches the two of you. there's something soft in his eyes now, envy tempered with awe. 

“don’t listen to him,” you say with a playful smile, your gaze softening as you turn to your husband. “i only gave you a chance when i realized how big your heart is. how much you really care. your dedication to reshaping jujutsu society—that’s what made me see you weren’t just a nuisance.”

both gojo's eyes widen in shock, clearly not expecting that.

your husband, though, pouts, his usual smugness replaced with playful mock hurt.

“aww~” he whines, a teasing lilt to his voice. “i think you’ve got a little crush on me!”

you narrow your eyes, a warning simmering beneath your words. “satoru, i’m about to bite your head off.”

he grins, leaning in with that signature mischief. “don’t threaten me with a good time.”

the younger gojo’s eyes dart between the two of you. perhaps his future wasn’t too bad.

[rosecreates]

The favorite places of the BG3 Unholy Trio are as follows...

Sylve: She grew up in Rivington and after she became a mercenary and managed to earn herself a home in the Lower City, she found herself spending a lot of time in Elfsong Tavern to relax, and it soon became her favorite place.

Raven: The Bazaar of Menzoberranzan, where she often found a place to 'perch' and watch the people go to-and-fro, or spend time window shopping. Prior to being adopted into House Mizzrym she would also scam people, and even though she can't say she enjoyed having to make ends meet through conning, she can't deny it was fun fooling people into believing her.

Nimue: Prior to losing her memory, her favorite place was Bloomridge Park. Her foster parents took her there often, where she often had picnics with them and played with other children. After killing her foster parents when consumed by her dark urge when she was a preteen and covering up the murder out of fear, she was taken in by the Church dedicated to Corellon Larethian that she had often visited with her parents. She constantly visited the park at that point, watching the scenery from afar whilst drowning in her thoughts, if she wasn't praying at the Church for Corellon to purge the urges from her and forgive her for her sins or mourning her parents at the graveyard. After losing her memory and returning to Baldur's Gate in Act 3, she regains several memories when taken to Bloomridge Park and finds herself spending a lot of time there again to reminisce.