#but let's address it
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lying-on-floors · 5 months ago
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TW: mention of CSA!!
Okay, so a Teen Wolf AU idea...
Teenage!Derek Hale-- HEAR ME OUT:
Remember when he was a teenager again during that one episode? I don't know a whole lot of stuff about TW, actually, because I consume most of my information about the show through fandom spaces, but iykyk--
ANYWAYS, make Derek a teenager throughout the whole series.
He could still be a teacher to Scott since he was born as a Werewolf and has more knowledge than him. He could still be introduced the same way, and his family dying can be pretty much the same, but the part of his story that I would change is his "relationship" with Kate Argent.
In Canon, when Derek was 15/16, Kate took advantage of his grief and groomed Derek into a sexual and romantic relationship with her in order to get more information out of him. In my AU, the grooming happened when he was 13, so two years ago, as of S1, and when he sees her again, he has a hard time processing all of it, because he would absolutely bottle that up. Kate would probably try to manipulate him again, and it would be a whole arc of Derek being able to stand up against his abuser, because I need that part of his story to be addressed more by the masses. Also, I want to give Kate Argent a very gruesome and painful death. Fuck predators!
Also, what if Coach took Derek in?? Hmm? Just think about it...
And, if you're a fan of Sterek, it's a much more age appropriate ship now! Bc instead of it being a 22/23 yr old with a 15/16 yr old, it's two 15/16 yr olds!
I'll plan to write a fic of this, and if you wanna write a fic about this AU, tag me in it so I can read it!!
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mumblesplash · 11 months ago
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in honor of last season’s poem being called “”end poem”” (all quotes mandatory) this season i made one out of pieces of the actual end poem
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horsemeatluvr23 · 6 months ago
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i had a dream where etho accidentally called bdubs 'john' on stream,, and in retaliation bdubs said 'yes horace'..... and that's how we found out etho's real name is freaking. Horace.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 3 months ago
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Hello Madam. Sorry Madam.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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starry-bi-sky · 3 months ago
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this just in: danny fenton is just as much of a mask as Brucie Wayne? - another danyal al ghul au
Turns out, being placed in a civilian family who have no knowledge of your background is actually detrimental to the health and development of a child assassin due to lack of proper support! Surrounded by strangers in a foreign city, Danyal Al Ghul does as assassins do best. He hides. Espionage is one of many teachings one learns in the League, and it only takes half a day for Danyal to construct a new persona to hide behind: Daniel Fenton.
By the time dinner rolls around, Danyal al Ghul is safely and securely tucked behind the face of Danny Fenton; brand new adoptive child of the Fenton family who came from overseas. A shy, quiet little boy with a thick accent and curly hair, with brown skin and blue eyes, and an avid interest in the stars. The best fictions are always cobbled together in a little bit of truth, it's some of the only truth he ever lets through. He apologizes in a meek voice for his behavior early, he didn't mean to be rude, and he watches the three of them eat it up with coos.
Lies roll like silk against his lips, he struggles to meet their eyes and offers them his weakest, shyest smile. It's too easy. It's easy to go from there.
Danny Fenton, adoptive son, shy and awkward and unconfident but friendly. Who struggles in his classes and isn't the brightest, but tries his hardest. He makes bad jokes and has a quick tongue and a sarcastic mouth. He wants to be an astronaut. He's got the best aim in school, and is a terrifying dodgeball player. He's one of the least athletic kids in his grade.
It's like playing two truths and a lie, but there's only one truth, and the rest are lies. It's easy to pretend when he knows it's insincere.
Danyal Al Ghul, grandson to the Demon Head. Deadly, trained assassin. Has spilled blood, has had blood spilt from. Environmentalist, animal activist. He loves the stars. He owns a calligraphy set. A sharp tongue, an even sharper blade. He's clever, quick-witted, he would be top of his grade if he tried harder. He purposely doesn't.
He misses his family. He misses his mother, and he misses his brother. Mother visits a few times a year, so few times that he can count it on both hands. He cherishes every visit, as brief as they are. It helps remind him who he is.
Sam and Tucker are Danny's best friends. They've never met Danyal, but Danyal's met them.
It becomes routine to become Danny Fenton. As familiar and as easy as pulling on a shirt in the morning. Danyal wakes up and is always first to the bathroom in the mornings; stares at himself in the mirror until he can finally see Danny staring back at him. At night, he locks his door and sheds the mask.
Dying throws a wrench in his mask; splits a crack straight through the porcelain. He's able to smooth it over with sandpaper and liquid gold, but it's a little hard keeping his ghost form under wraps. It instinctively wants to shift to show his true self. Danyal can't have that, he's spent four years as Danny Fenton, he'll spend another four as him as well. Even if the feeling of the hazmat suit in his ghost form feels restrictive, like a too-small shirt suctioned to his skin that needs to be peeled off.
He'll live. Er-- well, you know what he means. It's frustrating however, trying to keep his Danny Fenton mask up even as Phantom - fighting in the air is something he needs to get used to, and the sudden propping of powers throws him off. But he is nothing if not adaptive, and he hates that he needs to slow his own skills down in order to keep pretenses up in front of Sam and Tucker.
The first time Danyal summons a sword when he's alone, is one of the few times Danyal gets to grin instead of Danny. He's fighting Skulker, and from an invisible hilt he draws a katana from thin air. It startles them both. Skulker takes a step back at the smile that spreads across his face.
They're both silent as Danyal examines his new sword.
"Do you know what people like me do to people like you, poacher?" Danyal finally asks him, the accent he began to hide a few months in slipping through. He drops all pretense, dragging the flat end of the blade slow and appreciatively against his palm. It's a good make, and when he cuts it through the air, it slices through like butter. He looks up at Skulker with a smile; "are you ready to find out?"
When Sam and Tucker ask about why Skulker seems so skittish around Danny now, Danny shrugs at them and says with a playful smile; "I don't know, I guess I kicked his butt too hard after our last fight." and he watches as Sam rolls her eyes exasperatedly, and Tucker snickers with his own joke.
By the time he reunites with Damian before their 15th birthday, Danyal is buried beneath so many layers of Danny Fenton that his brother will need a shovel to dig him out. He's not sure what he'll find.
#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc crossover#danyal al ghul au#danyal al ghul#dpxdc prompt#dpxdc au#dc x dp crossover#dp crossover#demon twins au#so turns out putting an assassin child in a normal family does not actually fix the child. it may just make them worse. had this thought#today and had to extrapolate. i have a whole ass post in my drafts explaining my idea for this lmao. my thought was basically:#'damian would be the better off twin because he'd have actual proper support compared to danny bc the bats know damian's background and +#+ as a result can actually address the league's teachings properly and help him dismantle the lessons that have been ingrained in him +#+ as compared to danny who would be with a random family - regardless of affiliation - who would only be able to help with surface level +#stuff if danny even ever lets them see that. danny would need to dismantle his own mindset on his own if he even thinks he has to.'#jazz is not a reliable or licensed therapist. that is a child. she's not even implied to be a good one. psychoanalyzing people doesn't make#you a good therapist. it just means you can psychoanalzye people. and therapy only works on those who think they need it. danny would not#think he'd need it and any attempts from jazz to psychoanalyze him would just result in him shutting her out and doubling down on his belie#tldr: starry made another au exploring the psychological effects of growing up in the league and he calls it:#'whose the more adjusted twin? Damian or Danny? Lmao Damian ofc. Danny got screwed over'#rip to damian you have your work cut out for you trying to peel back all of your brother's protective layers. that's an iceberg waiting to#be explored. o7 to you champ your brother got the short end of the stick. danny has so many things to unlearn that i didn't go into here#its an actual demon twins au too! would ya look at that.
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unclewaynemunson · 1 year ago
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Alt version of this post bc too many people asked for both &lt;3
It's Saturday night and, like almost every Saturday night, Eddie wishes he didn't have to be at some jock party. The flashing lights, the scent of cheap mixed drinks, the incredibly mediocre loud music... And worst of all, the fucking jocks. Everywhere.
'Eddie!'
He looks up to find Steve, with a dopey smile on his face, basically skipping towards him and throwing his arms around his neck. Oh. He didn't know Steve still went to parties like those. Hadn't seen him at any of them in a while. But as soon as he gets wrapped up in an enthusiastic full-body hug, he decides there's one jock, and one jock only, that he doesn't mind running into at those parties.
'Eddie, what're you doin' here?' There's an unfocused look in his eyes and he wobbles on his legs a little bit, grabbing tighter onto Eddie for support. The touch burns through Eddie's t-shirt and he tries to ignore the shiver running down his spine.
'I didn't know you liked parties!' Steve drops his voice, slurring: 'I thought you hated the jocks.'
Eddie can't help but smile. 'I hate all jocks but one, big boy,' he tells Steve. 'Not here to party, only to get some cash.' He rattles with the metal lunchbox in his hands to illustrate his point. 'Can you let me go now so I can get on with my business, pretty please?'
'Noooo,' Steve says with an exaggerated pout. 'I'm too happy you're here! Dance with me!'
Eddie chuckles. 'I don't think you're in any state to dance right now. Jesus, Stevie, I don't think I've ever seen you this wasted before. Thought you were planning to pick up a girl tonight?'
'I was,' Steve says, suddenly sounding oddly serious. 'But it doesn't matter. Just needed to forget. The rum helped, too.' He frowns. 'Til you showed up.'
'Forget what?' Eddie asks, trying to make sense of this drunken string of words.
Something happens; something that's been happening quite often lately. Steve's eyes flash downwards, just for a second, right to where Eddie's lips are.
Eddie's heartbeat involuntarily picks up speed.
'What did you need to forget, Steve?' Eddie asks again.
'Can't tell you,' Steve mumbles so softly that Eddie can barely make it out over the loud music. 'I don't wanna make you feel guilty. I'm not judging you, y'know. 'S fine.'
He abruptly lets go of Eddie and takes a step away from him, stumbling right into some girl who pushes him back with an annoyed scoff; if Eddie weren't still standing right behind him, he would've fallen on his ass for sure.
'Alright, you're not making any sense tonight, big boy, but I can't in good conscience let you stay here by yourself. How 'bout I'll drive you home?'
Eddie glances at his watch. If he hurries, he can probably still be back to do what he came here for before the good part of the party is over. He does kinda need the cash.
'Can't,' says Steve. 'Can't go home with you.' Something in his voice is breaking and suddenly there are tears in his eyes, and Eddie still doesn't understand what's wrong; he feels like he's overlooking something huge, something that should be obvious.
'Let's just go outside to talk, then?' he suggests.
'Can't. Dance with me, Eddie.'
But when Eddie starts gently tugging Steve towards the open door leading to the garden, Steve easily lets himself be led outside. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath when the cool night air reaches his lungs, as if one gulp of fresh air will instantly make him sober up. But he's still swaying on his feet, making Eddie grab onto him tighter.
Eddie likes to think of himself as moderately strong, but unfortunately, hauling 180 pounds of muscled jock around is starting to take its toll on him. He spots a bench in a secluded corner of the garden and guides Steve towards it.
'This better?' he asks.
'Yeah,' Steve breathes out. Even now that they're both sitting down, Steve keeps clinging onto him. 'Look at the stars, Eddie.'
Eddie looks up at the scattering of lights twinkling far above them - but he can feel Steve's eyes still burning into his face.
When he directs his gaze back to the guy sitting next to him, Steve's face is even closer than before. The starlight is reflected in his hazy eyes, tiny specks of silver hidden in various shades of brown and black.
'I wish I could kiss you,' Steve whispers, looking at Eddie with nothing but admiration behind that glassy drunk gaze.
Eddie almost forgets to breathe. He knows that it seemed like he and Steve were headed exactly toward something like this for a while now, but he still can hardly believe that it is real. That Steve Harrington is really looking at him like he's just as precious as the stars in the sky above them.
He brings up a hand, gently caresses Steve's soft cheek.
'Maybe you don't have to wish,' he whispers back, unable to stop his eyes from flashing towards Steve's beautiful lips for a moment. 'Tomorrow. When you're not drunk anymore. If you still remember this.'
'No.' Steve shakes his head, so fiercely it makes his hair flap in all directions and his complexion at least two shades paler. 'Can't.'
'Why do you keep saying that, Steve?' Eddie asks softly.
'Cause.' For a moment Eddie thinks Steve is gonna grab his ass, but then... he randomly frees Eddie's handkerchief – the one with the skulls – from his back pocket.
'Cause of the Russians.'
Eddie can only stare at him in confusion.
'They tied me up,' Steve all but whispers. Eddie hates how small and broken his voice suddenly sounds.
He has always known – broadly speaking – about what happened to Steve and Robin miles beneath Starcourt last year. He's never actually heard Steve talk about the details, though. All he knows is that he and Robin were captured by Russian spies and somehow made it out alive. He could always see how difficult it was for Steve to talk about it whenever it came up, but he never wanted to pry. And now here they are, at some goddamn high school jock party of all places, and all of a sudden Steve willingly brings it up.
'I was with Robin,' Steve continues, still in that scared and broken voice. 'And they tied us to a chair. We couldn't move. And they – they hurt me. They hit me. 'Til I was bleeding all over. I thought I was gonna die. Robin thought I was dead.'
'Jesus Christ, Steve,' Eddie breathes out, tightening his grip around Steve's torso.
'So I can't,' Steve mumbles, holding up Eddie's handkerchief as if it's some kind of logical explanation for whatever it is he's trying to tell Eddie.
'Wh- What?'
'I know what it means, Eddie,' he says, as if he's even remotely making sense right now. 'You know John?'
'Who the hell is John?' Eddie only keeps finding himself more and more lost in this conversation.
'My cousin,' Steve says, like it's obvious, like he's ever talked about some cousin named John to Eddie before. 'The one in New York. He knows all about that shit, right? He sends me the good magazines sometimes when my parents aren't home. That's how I know.'
'Know what?'
Steve only waves around with that stupid handkerchief again.
'You're flagging, aren't ya? You like pain. Like BS... BM...'
Eddie feels his jaw drop.
'What the fuck are you talking about?' he asks. 'It's – this is a metal thing. It looks metal. I literally have no idea what you're – flagging?'
Now Steve's face finally mirrors the confusion Eddie has been feeling for the past ten minutes.
'Are you serious?' he asks, for one second showing more clarity in his eyes than Eddie has seen all evening.
Eddie nods.
'So it's not...' Steve stops himself, swallows, frowns. 'You're not into, like, hurting people and shit?'
And finally, it all clicks together in Eddie's mind: the repeated chorus of I can't, the story about the Russians, the goddamn handkerchief... Flagging. BDSM.
'Why the hell would I get off on hurting you, Steve?' is all he can get out of his mouth.
And Steve honest-to-Satan starts giggling; it sounds so relieved that Eddie kinda feels like giggling too, scary metal image be damned.
'I dunno, it's more common than you think,' Steve mumbles. 'I wouldn't judge you, alright? But I knew I could never give you that. No matter how much I like you. And then you'd get bored of me.'
'Oh, Steve,' Eddie whispers out. 'You don't need to worry 'bout that, I swear. For all I care, we can have the most vanilla sex in the world forever. Or never have sex at all. As long as it's with you... I'm good.' Eddie cringes as soon as the words leave his mouth: it sounds too cheesy, too sincere. He kinda hopes Steve will have forgotten this particular part of their conversation tomorrow morning.
But Steve doesn't look at him like he thinks it's stupid at all: his eyes are wide and he's smiling a soft smile.
'You sure? You won't get bored?'
Eddie chuckles. Now that he's being too goddamn cheesy anyway, he might as well double down on it. 'I can't imagine getting bored of getting to hold this body in a million fucking years. In any way you'll have me.'
Steve heaves out a relieved sigh before he buries his head against Eddie's chest.
'Can I bring you home, now?' Eddie asks.
There's a twinkle in Steve's eyes when he lifts his head again.
'Ooohhh... You wanna have the most vanilla sex in the world with me now?'
A chortle escapes Eddie's lungs.
'Um, maybe tomorrow, when you're not drunk off your ass,' he answers with a wink. 'For tonight, just lemme get you to bed, 'kay?'
'Okay, big boy,' Steve answers, and Eddie can't help but laugh before he presses a kiss against Steve's forehead.
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ganondorf-ganondorf · 1 month ago
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ganondorf
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caycanteven · 1 year ago
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"You are a stubborn little thing, do you know that?"
"I do. Though, would you have me any different?"
"No, I would not."
"Why?"
"I would miss the way your soul burns with passion for what you believe in."
"How romantic. Anything else?"
"...and with how adorable it is that you think you can challenge me."
"Ah, there it is."
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cata613 · 9 months ago
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I’m sorry, WHAT does this ad have to do with ISRAEL? Did I miss something? Or do you have nothing to do with your pathetic little lives and derive pleasure only from being antisemites?
God, every day it gets SO MUCH HARDER to maintain hope and faith in humanity.
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cupcakeslushie · 2 years ago
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Thirds
pt 1 || pt 2
Donnie thinks he knows what he has to do reconcile Three with Donatello. To leave everything from that time behind and move on, but…maybe there’s a simpler solution?
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deadchaoticcosmos · 2 months ago
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1976
regulus: hey, your eyes have a little green in them
james: *grinning like an idiot, he has only ever been told he has brown eyes* huh
1996
draco: hey, your eyes have a little green in them
harry: *grinning like an idiot, he has only ever been told he has his mother's eyes* huh
imagine the huh as kinda a laugh
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bisclavret · 29 days ago
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this is so funny i knew eoin said he thought gwaine got up and went on his merry way with a concussion and zero recollection of the entire series but i didn't know he got super excited about making a short film about it. it's kind of a huge-brained idea actually since gwaine's character arc starts out with a concussion. mr macken please this could be your magnum opus there is still time
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 6 months ago
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MDZS x ISAT part 2: Grandmaster of Time.
(Part 1)
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starry-bi-sky · 1 month ago
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danny and officer martinez's relationship in "late at night, when the nightingale sings" in a nutshell:
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Martinez: FREAK! GET YOUR FUCKING KID!
Battinson, on the other side of the crime scene: he don't bite
Martinez, with Nightingale firmly attached his arm, visibly biting him: YES HE DO!
*points at them* Danny is the Bugs Bunny to Martinez's Elmer Fudd.
Another Officer: i can't believe you're fighting with an actual twelve year old. Martinez: i swear to god that is not a twelve year old, that is a little hellion that crawled out of batman's shadow one dark and stormy night and decided to dedicate his existence to tormenting me. Officer: Are you really that mad about him putting a sticky note on your back-- Martinez: thats not the point
in danny's defense: the word "freak" is. a mini beserker button for him for.... obvious ghostly reasons, so like, even if its not directed at him, he still very much unappreciates Martinez's insults at Battinson. Danny may or may not be projecting.
he's not going to hurt the guy! not in any serious or permanently disfiguring way at least! But he is going to leave mean sticky notes on the square part of his spine that he can't reach, and stick salt in his 3AM Late Night Crime Scene Coffee, and kick the bottom of his heel while he's walking so he stumbles. And other petty, infuriating things that tally up and boil over, over time.
#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc#dpxdc crossover#blood blossom au#dpxdc memes#dpxdc au#the only thing martinez is right about is the fact that danny is. in fact. NOT twelve.#he's just shrimpy because he's half-dead#there's eventually a 'martinez vs nightingale' board in the precinct called the beef board. it tallies every time one of them gets got by#the other. danny is currently in the lead by a wide margin. martinez is very limited in what he can do bc of multiple reasons. but one#of them is the fact that batman HAS punched a cop before. three actually. and he won't hesitate to punch another if martinez actually did#anything to harm nightingale. and also nightingale shows up so rarely and doesnt stick around long enough for martinez to retaliate#or properly plan ahead. its kinda a wild card whether or not nightingale pops up on the scene.#nightingale: i am just a little guy!! the littlest of boy!! baddabing-baddaboom! you wouldn't do nothin to a little guy would'ya?#battinson who atp knows full well that if it werent for the blood blossom danny could turn martinez into a red smear: *would you?*#danny: if it werent for the laws of this land i would have committed acts of violence against You Specifically :)#and also like. every single other officer insulting batman and callin him a freak. they're not safe either martinez is just the poor sucker#that i have a name to give the face to#danny's a good kid but also i don't picture him totally.. hm... mentally stable? he's a little spicy. as a treat.#he's kind at his core but also he found his family's corpses and was isolated from society for 4 months by his abusive godfather and was#poisoned with quite literally the only toxin capable of destroying him entirely and can no longer (currently) use his powers without dying#instantly. so he's! he's doing his best! like between being chaotic and being kind he's def gonna choose being kind but also.#he's living on borrowed time and is in a constant active state of being slowly eaten alive by his own bloodstream. it weighs on ya psyche#danny's barely even processed his family's death and now he's got all this other trauma stacked on top to address. he is Windows EXP rn#tormenting martinez is just. an itty bitty way he can let loose some of the stress he's ignoring.#considering danny's alternate timeline was: world annihilation. he thinks he's doing pretty well all things considered
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cicadatree · 5 months ago
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sunstone by @leafyliz
DA: 3267-7035-4995
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unclewaynemunson · 1 year ago
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Yall voted for the sober version of this premise so here ya go:
Steve doesn't know exactly what he had expected kissing Eddie would be like, but it sure as hell wasn't this. He would've expected something rough and raw, bared teeth and maybe fingers pulling at his hair. But what he gets instead is something infinitely soft, something resembling tenderness... It makes it all the more difficult for him to pull back.
“What's wrong, Stevie?” Eddie asks after one look at Steve's face.
“I need to tell you something,” Steve manages to choke out.
And Eddie wraps his arms all around him, pulling him closer until his head is lying right against Eddie's beating heart. That heartbeat, steady and reassuring, is all he focuses on while he talks.
“Remember last summer? The mall fire that wasn't really a mall fire?”
“You finally gonna tell me what happened there?” Eddie says. It doesn't sound accusatory, just curious and a little confused as to where this is headed.
“I don't really like to talk about it,” Steve confesses. He closes his eyes, flashes of what happened back then floating to the surface of his mind again.
“We – Robin and I – we were captured by Russian soldiers. They tied us up and interrogated us for hours. They thought we were spies, so they tried to get us to give up information. They hit me.” He pauses to take a breath. “They hurt me real bad, Eddie. Until I was bleeding all over. Until I lost consciousness and Robin thought I was dead. The only reason we survived is because they thought we would have useful information for them.”
“Jesus Christ, Steve...”
Eddie's grip around him tightens, but Steve lifts his head up and makes a half-hearted attempt to crawl away from him. The hardest part has yet to come.
“I really, really like you, Eddie,” he says. “But I can't do this with you.”
Confusion flashes over Eddie's features: his eyes widen and the lines around his lips become deeper. But he still doesn't loosen his grip.
“What do you mean?”
“It's the –“ Steve clears his throat. “I know what it means, the – your hanky. I got a cousin in New York who knows all about that shit, they send me magazines sometimes when my parents aren't home. I'm sorry, Eddie, but I can't do that, like, ever. It's only gonna make me relive that shit from last year. There's no way I can ever give you what you need, so it wouldn't be fair to...” He trails off, not quite knowing how to finish that sentence.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Eddie still looks as confused as ever.
“Your hanky,” Steve uselessly repeats. “You're flagging, aren't you? You're into, like, hurting people, right?”
Steve watches how Eddie's jaw drops, almost in slow motion.
“This?” he asks, grabbing behind him and taking the black piece of fabric, covered in skulls, out of his back pocket.
Steve nods.
Eddie laughs, but it sounds fake and on edge, quickly dying out again. “Steve. This is a metal thing. It looks badass, y'know. I literally have no idea what you're – flagging?”
A gasp escapes Steve's lips and he feels his heartbeat speed up with something that must be hope.
“Are you serious?”
Eddie nods, his brows still furrowed and that endearingly confused look of I-have-no-clue-what-the-hell-is-going-on not leaving his eyes.
It feels like Steve's heart is starting to run laps in his chest, now. He can barely suppress the laughter that's bubbling up inside of him.
“What the hell are you trying to tell me, Steve?”
He grabs the hanky that's still in Eddie's hand.
“I thought you were flagging,” he weakly explains. “It's like a code. To signal what you like to do, y'know, in the bedroom. The black, it means – I thought you were into, like, BDSM shit. Things I can't do: being tied down, getting hurt...”
“Why the hell would I get off on hurting you, Stevie?”
It sounds so ridiculously innocent and horrified: Eddie the freak, Eddie the scary metalhead – Eddie who is genuinely shocked at the suggestion that he had in any way created an image for himself in which it made sense that he'd be into pain.
“I mean, if you would, I wouldn't wanna judge you or whatever,” Steve is quick to say. “You'd be surprised how many people are into that shit, I'm not here to shame anyone. But if you aren't... I'm really fucking relieved, man.”
He still vividly remembers what happened when he was dating Daphne, who had once taken his wrists in her hands and pinned them down on the mattress above his head while she was on top of him. Or when he was with Melissa, who had half-jokingly slapped his ass one time when things were getting heated between them. Anything restricting his movements, anything unexpected, could make him lose his shit now, as he had had to find out the hard way. It had made him believe that he could never actually have Eddie, that that would be asking too big of a sacrifice of either one of them, an impossible kind of compromise, no matter how much they liked one another. But instead, here he is, with Eddie looking at him with the softest look in his eyes, actually having talked about his shit before they even got up to anything more than kissing.
So he tells him, stumbling his way through the words, about his experiences with Daphne and with Melissa. And Eddie listens to him patiently, his big eyes never once leaving Steve's, nodding as if he's mentally taking notes of what to do and what not to do.
“We can take it as slow as you need to,” Eddie tells him when he's finished, his voice sincere and reassuring.
“It's not about taking it slow,” Steve assures him. “It isn't about not being ready. It's more about...” He pauses to think. “It's about trust. I trust you.”
Eddie's hands, that are still wrapped around Steve's torso, tighten for a moment and he blinks rapidly a few times. He looks overwhelmed by Steve's words.
“Okay,” he finally says, a little bit more hoarse than before. “So if it's about trust, can I trust you to tell me whenever something I do is bringing back unwanted memories?”
Steve nods. “Yeah, I can do that.”
It's always been difficult for him to talk about what happened that day underneath the mall. But he realizes he has already done the difficult part: Eddie already knows about the memories he is carrying with him. That must make it easier to talk about it in case it will ever be necessary.
Soft lips press against his temple and he drops his head back on Eddie's chest.
“Good,” says Eddie. The sound of his voice vibrates through Steve's whole body; he doesn't think there's anything more comforting than being completely wrapped up in Eddie like this.
A hand lands in his hair and starts stroking through it softly.
“Thank you for telling me this,” Eddie mumbles. “That couldn't have been easy.”
In return, Steve wants to thank Eddie for being as sweet and understanding as he has been, but the exhaustion of having this talk is washing over him in big, heavy waves. So he merely hums and lets his eyes fall shut.
“You wanna stay the night?” Eddie asks. “We don't have to do anything right now – we can go straight to sleep, how does that sound?”
Steve nuzzles his head further into Eddie's chest. “Sounds good,” he murmurs. He can't imagine ever wanting to sleep on his own again.
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