totally didn’t expect the other part to do well at all but 😳 apparently i don’t know steddie fans. as such, have a part two <3 part one is here again, look out for the borrowed hunger games lines
“You’ve ruined your life, you know that, right?”
The kitchen had been basking in the lull of the quiet morning before Eddie had spoken up, breaking the silence. Steve blinks, realising he’s been zoned out staring at the swirling bubbles atop his mug of coffee and look up at Eddie across the table.
“Doing what you did.” Eddie continues. There’s this slight in his voice. Steve figures it’s not really aimed at him.
Chief Powell had agreed to not release the details of the case to the public for obvious reason. However, it went without saying that of the cops working the case, not all would be so free-thinking. There were plenty who deemed leaking the alibi and letting the town devour Steve’s reputation a more than fair consequence.
And, well, Eddie didn’t have any reputation left to tarnish or save.
Steve takes a sip of his coffee and lets the warm flavour coat his tastebuds as he tries to puts his thoughts in the right order.
He knows how Eddie sees this— sees it as this burden that he’s imposed on Steve’s life. That he had been able to accept it at first, the whispers of freedom tempting enough that he could be selfish enough to gasp them.
Then yesterday afternoon, Steve had come back from Bradley’s Big Buy with dried yolks splattered across the windscreen and regret howled through Eddie like a hurricane, fierce and wild. Realisation of what Steve had condemned himself to— no- what Eddie had condemned him to finally sunk in.
Steve can tell he’s been stewing on it all night. In the couple weeks he’s been here, staying in under the Harrington roof just down the hall from Steve, he’s surprised by how easily his brain has tacked on to Eddie’s habits. His little Eddie-ism’s. That’s what Steve calls them.
Like how Eddie’s nose will twitch if there’s something on his plate he doesn’t like, but he’s too polite to say it.
How he thumbs up and down the edge of a book when he’s reading, completely entranced. Doesn’t even notice his moving, twittering fingers.
How he’s always so much twitchier the morning after a sleep laced with terror after terror. It gives him away before Steve even see the bags under his eyes, the hollowness of his face.
Steve recognises that one from himself, from back when he’d gone through it all for the first time. The flinch is unshakeable when you’re convinced it’s all going to come back— that the world is going to tear itself up and spit out monsters you haven’t even dreamed of.
Today, Eddie isn’t twitchy like that. He’s tired, a sunken in face that comes from a bone-deep aching tiredness. He picks at his breakfast, bitterly avoiding the eggs on his plate.
And Steve can’t pretend to understand how Eddie grew up — can take his guesses but ultimately won’t get near the experiences he knows Eddie has lived through. Steve has only ever been on the other side. Stayed silent while someone else through snide comments and used the word fag like a jagged blade, to cut someone down.
So, he doesn’t know. Not even a year with Robin as his best friend and all her knowledge could’ve prepared Steve for the startling fear he’d felt when coming out of the store to the sight of a group of boys around his car, cartons of eggs in hand. One with a crowbar.
They would’ve smashed his windows if he had come out a minute later, he’s sure of it.
It had been like getting doused in icy water — the Letterman jackets on all of them, the sneers, still jeering taunts as they’d scattered across the parking lot. Steve had felt the bile rise in his throat as he got in the car and sat, staring at the steering wheel, his slimy fear melting and mixing with his anger.
Eddie’s point of view suddenly resounded within Steve in a way he hadn’t known before. Standing on tables, hollering about conformity, leaning in to every foul rumour about him— like a person drawing to full height, making himself as big as possible, to scare off a bear.
Steve gets that a little more now.
So, when Eddie tells him you’ve ruined your life he knows what he’s trying to tell him. Except, Steve doesn’t know how to say lightly that he’d gladly ruin his life to save Eddie’s. It’s too much — but Steve always is. Always loves in these big heavy ways that are too hard to handle.
So instead, he shrugs and says, “Consider it a trade.”
Eddie cocks his head, like a dog, just an inch.
“For following me into the lake and saving my life.”
Eddie scoffs and his head lolls back dramatically like what Steve’s said is ridiculous. “Jesus H Christ, dude, you saved yourself. I told you that I would’ve been too cowardly to come after you if Birdie and Wheeler hadn’t gone in first.”
He mutters the word cowardly with a hiss.
“Well then, a trade for drawing the bats away.”
“You mean the time I nearly became hamburger helper for the bats?”
“Christ, Eddie,” Steve scoffs. “I didn’t take you as someone who fished for compliments so hard.”
Eddie frowns, dropping his fork with a clatter on his plate. “I— what? I’m not- I don’t even—”
Steve cuts in. “You helped us and you saved my life, whether your horrible little brain can admit that or not. So,” He sits back in his chair with another little shrug and sips his coffee. “Equal trade.”
Eddie frowns, a crease forming between his brows. “No, not equal, Steve. You don’t get what you’ve done you— ugh, you just don’t—”
He huffs, cutting himself off, clearly unsure of how to voice his frustrations. He slumps back in his chair and eyes the eggs on his plate again with a glare this time.
Steve waits a moment and hopes he isn’t overstepping when he says, voice quiet, “I know, Eddie.”
Across the table, Eddie’s eyes raise to meet Steve’s and he doesn’t sound smug, he doesn’t sound angry, he just sounds defeated when he speaks.
“Do you?”
“Maybe not quite the extent of it until yesterday but, yes… I know.”
His words sink it and Eddie looks… affronted. His eyes get a little wide and a tremble finds his lips. Like the whole time he’d been convinced Steve wasn’t sure what he’d been getting into, that the reality hadn’t set in— that any moment he would rescind his alibi and throw Eddie to the cops and let them snap the cuffs back on him.
Steve hates that expression. Loathes that Eddie is so surprised that anyone would do this for him — something as important as keeping him alive and out of prison. Steve hates it because he knows it means that somewhere along the way, somebody had convinced Eddie that nobody would.
So, if he’s got to be the one to convince Eddie that someone will— that he will make the effort, will put his neck on the line because… well, isn’t that what Steve does best?
He’ll do it gladly.
Eddie picks up his fork and stabs his fork into the egg, the buttery yolk spilling onto the plate. Steve takes it as a truce, as him meeting him in the middle.
"So,” Steve swirls the mug in his hand and swills another sip back. Swallows it and takes a page out of Eddie’s book and goes the joke, leaning forward, forearms on the table. “If I’m gonna be your boyfriend for the foreseeable future I should probably know more stuff about you. Y’know, like, uh, the deep stuff.”
Eddie’s sunk back down in his seats but at Steve’s final sentence, he perks up. A smirking sort of grin crossing his face and Eddie twists a piece of his hair in front of his mouth. He hasn’t kept eating yet, too focused on the conversation.
"Uh-oh, the deep stuff.” He’s got that teasing tone in his voice. “Like what?"
"Like...” Steve scrambles to pull something from his brain. “Um, what’s your favourite colour?"
“Oh well, now you've stepped over the line."
Eddie’s sarcasm melts into a chuckle as Steve laughs, ducking his head instinctively. When he lifts his gaze, he’s relieved that Eddie looks a little lighter. Not much but a smidge of difference — Steve can see it if he squints. He’s sure it won’t be the last conversation they’ll have about this but for now, it’s settled.
Curiosity piques in Steve and he tries to sound casual when he says, “No, really, what is it?”
Eddie blinks and curls his hair around his finger once more, tugging it lightly. He seems to be considering his answer, eyes dropping to the sweater Steve’s donning.
“Yellow.” He finally says. “Not mustard but, y’know, lighter. Colour of the moon on Halloween or…”
“Cheese?” Steve suggests.
Eddie laughs. “Yeah, the right kind of cheese, sure. What about you? Favourite colour?”
Steve considers it — for the longest time, it had been red because Tommy had told him that red or blue were the coolest colours to like, way back in third grade. No one has asked him since then.
“Pink, actually.” Steve admits, hand coming up to brush across his nose, trying to hide behind the motion. He envies Eddie’s long curls suddenly. He feels the need to explain, more words rolling off his tongue. “Like, y’know, when the sun starts to set, like all dusky, it’s just… nice.”
Eddie’s staring at him peculiarly, his lips parted yet quirked up in this faint smile. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d call it awe. Breaking his stare, Eddie chuckles again, finally properly picking his fork up to finish his meal.
“Steve Harrington.” He murmurs warmly, more to himself. His lips twitch with a smile. “You just keep surprising me.”
—
some people wanted more 🤲 uh get tagged idiot - normally i don’t do taglists but u were all so kind as to reply to the post & i didn’t get a chance to say thank u for ur lovely words! this is my thank u! have sum more!
@friendlyorange @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @lostinadmiration @life-love-musicaltheatre @oldlovershippiemusic5 @phoeniceae @catateme9 @lolawonsstuff @justagaypanda @pluto-pepsi @whoopstie @scenesofobx @justforthedead89 @musical-theatre-gay @theperksofbeingstjimmy @ikilledabuginthewall @imauselessartist @fridgebaby @lingeringmirth and uhhh @corrodedcoughin cos i still do a little squeal when u rb my tings even tho we’re mewchies :D
2K notes
·
View notes
Quick Falin analysis. Congrats on her going along with her loved ones’ wishes becoming explicitly canon and not subtext btw!
Thinking of it, becoming a chimera and literally being puppeteered around by the will of the dungeon and its lord is such an… Explicit visualization of her demeanor in life of letting others’ wants and whims dictate what she does and where she goes. Shows the most extreme & worst version of it, of where that could lead her down the road. Dunmeshi loves often showing that with everyone, with the winged lion warping even the most selfless well-intentioned desire into something intense and destructive.
If Faligon is her retreating into that comfortable role of just on-pilot mode following what others want, that’d be an interesting angle too. Because we see like with the dragons fight at Thistle’s house that the monsters CAN act rebellious, meanwhile Falin was just so on board with the commands she got ever since she got transformed.
Chimera Falin doesn’t have a strong will? Oof
I do also think that Thistle is something that her nursing reflexes latch onto easily, when it comes to comforting and protecting others. It’s unsure how much of her is dormant as Faligon, or how being bound to the dungeon and the dungeon lord’s will affects her, but it’s undeniable that she acts with care when it comes to Thistle. On one hand, she fights ferociously for him, when protecting him or even just sent out to scout, but you can’t really say she’s being assertive either, not when she doesn’t complain or act when he eats all the berries and she’s hungry. She’s still that silent, sidelined guardian, only now very, very literal.
I never bought the angle that chimera Falin mostly represented her repressed anger at the world personally, like yes now she’s loud and big and imperfect, but again, socially she falls into the same pitfalls, it’s just that now she’s top dog, below just one person, and so she’s allowed to be aggressive with everyone else. If anything, it’s the dragon soul pushing her to want more, making her act out, giving her a taste of how it feels to be powerful, carefree and impossible to oversee, but it couldn’t be called catharsis I think. In general, she seems more passive with a "as long as I have what I love, everything else can go burn for all I care" mentality rather than actively(or repressedly) angry to me. Not that she couldn’t have complex feelings over being lonely and cast out either of course, but personally I never got the sense that she resents the world or society at large.
I do feel like the dogs treating her like she was at the bottom of the hierarchy also shaped her a lot
Not only cast out by other kids and classmates, but also treated as someone that can be disrespected and roughened up by the dogs at home. She was really pushed into that go with the flow, make yourself scarce and quiet attitude. She’s never really been allowed to hope for better, or to have a dream of her own, her life path being decided for her by others.
Besides with Laios, everything she learned everywhere in group dynamics was that she was at the bottom and should be content with whatever others gave her. Maybe that’s why she was so forgiving of her parents too, because at least, to some degree they did care and didn’t want to cut contact, and she takes what she can get.
Thank you @thatsmimi for the fantranslation of the new leaked content, the opening and ending pictures in this post. Their original post about it is here, and as mentioned it is not the official translation.
670 notes
·
View notes
—chris doesn't come back au is finally here ya'll!! not only is this the longest fic i've ever written, but it's also my 200th buddie fic!! thank you to everyone who's encouraged me on this journey; can't wait to take ya'll on this angst fest 🫶🏻
rated: e | words: 110k | ch. 14/14 | read on ao3
summary:
Christopher was gone, missing.
It wasn’t anyone’s fault, but as Eddie watched the man he loved break right in front of him, he knew Buck blamed himself, that the guilt was already eating him alive.
Eddie had the urge to be in two places at once, wanting to comfort Buck, but needing to find his son. Chris was his whole world; Buck had stepped right into it.
They didn’t find Chris that night, or the next. He was gone, swept away with the storm. Some things floated back to shore, while others, well—they were lost forever.
—or—
After the tsunami, Christopher goes missing. He doesn’t come back, at least, not right away. This is NOT mcd.
THIS FIC IS COMPLETE!
tagging squad below, just lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3
tags: @loserdiaz @redlightsandicedtea @loveyourownsmiilee @monsterrae1 @bi-buckrights @swiftiebuckleyhan @honestlydarkprincess @queerbuckleys @spotsandsocks @justsmilestuffhappens @eddiiediaz @djdangerlove @eddiebabygirldiaz @elvensorceress @jackluvsdaniel @stanningsky @wh0re-behavi0r @ronordmann @spaceprincessem @transbuck @giddyupbuck @wildlife4life @betty-boom @hippolotamus @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @underwaterninja13 @pirrusstuff @nmcggg @theotherbuckley @louis-tenn @the-gayest-wug @buckley-diaz-rules @muppetbuddie @gamer-kai @blorbodiaz @saybiwithme @trashbaget @steadfastsaturnsrings @bibuckbuckgoose @wikiangela @hobbitnarwhal @shortsighted-owl @pirrusstuff @goldencherrymooon @kinardbuckley @daffi-990 @greenfairrryy @mattsire
393 notes
·
View notes