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#outsider's pov
sunnysideprincess · 9 months
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Tony, with all his reputation as a playboy billionaire, is a little slow on the uptake. Natasha noticed this shortly after moving in with the team. He was genuinely unaware of the way ladies would drag their sunglasses down to their nose just to see the swing of his hips or the slow roll of his shirt sleeves. Pepper, despite their mutually thought break up, still drools a little when Tony's nimble fingers work the tie loose. And yeah, Nat wouldn't say no to a wild weekend away with the genius on a secluded cabin on the hill—doing nasty, nasty things to that tush.
But nothing compares Tony's oblivious nature when it comes to the men around him.
The way he drives Tiberus Stone crazy during the Met Gala, wearing a corset that's tight enough to give Victorian Era ladies a run for their money. The way one of the military brats shamelessly stares at his throat, licking his lips and subtly adjusting his pants. The way Barnes whines when Tony comes out of the armor, wearing the tight-just right-flight suit. The way Steve punches a hole in the refridgerator when he sees his shirt sitting loose on Tony's bare chest. (Apparently Tony and Nat are the resident clothing thieves. She doesn't disagree because Bruce's shirts and Clint's jackets look good on her.)
She sees it while tracing the spots on her mug. The resident genius billionaire is listing sideways, on the verge of falling off his perch on the counter top—because normal seats are for losers, he said. His head bumps on the shelving unit above and he mutters a curse, stretches his arm up to swat at it like it's a fly. But her attention catches at the stillness of two super soldiers staring at the patch of skin—a tiny sliver around the waist, the curve of the hip bone winking at them.
Tony yawns, jumps down to the floor and the loosely fitted sweats slide an inch below their designated spot. Something cracks and Nat watches them—the two Brooklyn boys pushing away their broken chopsticks and slowly, with the stillness of a pack of predators, rising up from their seats.
"I'm gonna go upstairs, use my bed for once," Tony tells them and sends Nat a slow smile. A knowing one.
He swings his hips around, humming an off beat tune and doesn't bother checking his own disheveled state of clothes.
It takes them all a moment to understand, and then Steve and Barnes are racing out of the kitchen after him, only to have the elevator doors slam on their faces.
Huh.
Looks like Tony might not be so oblivious after all.
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merlinology · 2 years
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fluffypotatey · 2 years
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Operation Merthur: Part 1
“You want me to do what?”
Malifer sighed. He really didn't want to repeat this again. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Malifer straightens his posture. He isn’t paid enough for this.
“Sire, I’ve told you this ten times.”
“Yes, yes, I understand that. But...why?”
The poor knight looked so confused and caught off guard. Fair. They did corner him with this request. Maybe Malifer should’ve gone to Sir Gwaine first. That knight always seemed more inclined to give them favors. But this was a special request. One that is not in Sir Gwaine’s jurisdiction. 
“We only ask, sire, is for you to ask His Majesty about...his opinions on his manservant.” Malifer prays for the first time in his life for Sir Leon to not ask him to repeat this request again. “See, we are only asking for the benefit of our dear friend, Merlin. Just in case, you know?”
Sir Leon's eyebrows furrow at the mention of Merlin’s name, but he still looked uncomfortable. Malifer understood why. Sir Leon was always a man who went by the book; very meticulous and always noble to a point that it was a little infuriating. Although, in Malifer’s humble opinion, Sir Lancelot takes the cake on being infuriatingly noble, but Sir Leon is second just for him always feeling the need to be so...virtuous. Great, now Mailer felt like gagging.
Fortunately, Charlie (think of him as Malifer’s second in command) saves Malifer from making a fool of himself in front of the knight. He wraps his arm around Malifer as an act of nonchalance. It’s an act mostly because they need Sir Leon to agree to this request for their plan to get in motion, and there was only so much a couple of nosy servants could do to meddle in the affair of something as important as this. 
“We don’t want you to…snoop, per say. More of”— Charlie made some kind of gesture with his free hand— “investigate the affairs of His Majesty’s heart. We understand that you are a very honorable man held by your code and by no means are we asking you to do anything treasonous.”
“I understand that,” Sir Leon gruffs. It seems this topic has made him flustered. Malifer is seriously ready to call it quits and ask Gwaine. “It’s just...don’t you think this is an invasion of privacy? I feel like we should just leave them to figure out themselves.”
Malifer groans. This isn’t going anywhere. Why did he think he could convince the ever virtuous Sir Leon into joining this operation? New plan: ask Gwaine and pray it works.
“Listen, Sire.” Malifer makes sure to stretch the sire out a bit to let the knight know how annoyed he is becoming. Merlin is a bad influence when it comes to decorum and proper etiquette. “In case you have been blind for four years, let me inform you that there has been no progress between those two imbeciles!”
The knight flinches at Malifer, referring to his two friends with such a name, but Malifer never gives him the chance to defend them.
“I don't know about you, but I am getting sick and tired of seeing them give each other those disgusting dopey eyes. Not to mention the amount of hours I have to hear Merlin talk about the King’s arms, face, hair, and--God forbid his fucking eyes, everyday--and always giving that sickly, sweet smile! I can’t take it, Sir Leon! And if you won't help me, I’ll meddle in these affairs by myself!”
He finishes looking straight at the knight. His chest rising and falling as he recollects himself. Charlie seemed to have grabbed him during his rant to ensure Malifer didn’t get all up on the knight’s face, but the damage was done. 
Sir Leon was at a loss for words. His face said it all. The shock was only a dream that vanished and his face became blank. Leon pursed his lips and crossed his arms. He looks back to the duo.
“You said you and some servants have created a whole operation?”
Now we’re getting somewhere.
-
Operation Get These Dumbasses Together (Gwaine coined the name Merthur but Malifer thinks it’s a stupid name and quite likes its original title, thank you very much) was a work in progress. It was actually an accident on how this operation got started. It was...after the whole fiasco with Mercia and Merlin being poisoned, if Malifer wants to really start at the beginning. 
Anyway, Merica had come for a treaty signing thing (Malifer isn’t exactly one who kept up with things like this, gossip was more up his alley), and everything went to shit the moment Merlin accused Mercia of trying to poison prince Arthur. Of course a servant accusing another kingdom of such an act was laughable and caused some arguments until King Uther (may his soul be forever facing its crimes in the afterlife) ordered Merlin to drink from said poisoned drink because who gives a shit about a servant’s life? Not Uther that’s for sure.
Prince Arthur did though, and would have drank it in Merlin’s stead, but of course that wasn’t going to happen. To sum it up, the cup was poisoned. Merlin, in critical condition of dying, was not doing so hot anymore. Prince Arthur, who had only known Merlin for...was it really only a month?! Wow. Anyway, Prince Arthur left Camelot (against his own father’s wishes) to find some flower to save Merlin. 
This, my friends, was the beginning of Malifer and Charlie’s delve into meddling in affairs they probably should have stayed out of.
It started out as a joke. Honestly, Charlie really was joking:
“Apparently, Prince Arthur left Camelot to save his servant.”
“Did he?” asked Malifer who was stuck cleaning the kitchens and missed all the drama much to his discontent.
“Yeah, it was really dramatic. Seems that the only way for Merlin to survive is to find this...flower of some sort? But the King was against the prince going to fetch it since, well,” Charlie’s face darkened as he remembered hearing the King’s exact words on how he felt about the servant’s fate. Such was the life of servants under Uther’s reign. Don’t be seen, don’t be heard, and never expect royalty to give a rat’s ass about you. Malifer stops his cleaning to face Charlie and his face falls grim in understanding. He reaches to squeeze Charlie’s shoulder. 
“Poor Merlin,” Malifer whispers, “he was quite a firecracker wasn’t he?”
Charlie snorts. He relaxes his shoulders then. 
“But the prince still left?”
Charlie smirks. “Yeah, went against his old man just to save his servant’s life.” A pause. “It must be love.”
Malifer chuckles at that. As if. It still made him smile. The prince and his manservant. Huh. The prince in love with his manservant.
The Prince...in love?
“HOLY SHIT!”
And that friends, is how Malifer dragged Charlie along to spy on the couple at whatever chance they could. Soon, Charlie’s stablehand friend, David joined, adding his own theories. Clara came next, then Greg, then Sean, then Maddox, then Mary, then...every single servant was in on this once small operation. A betting pool was made a month later. 
“I’m telling you! Gwen and Merlin are very close, so maybe—”
“Don’t even suggest that!”
“He did accuse himself of sorcery to save her life that one time,” someone murmured.
Silence.
“Goddamnit, Stephen!”
“What? It’s true! Prince Arthur even said so!”
“Oh please, can we really trust the prince for something like this? He could have assumed wrong and gotten jealous for no reason!”
“Merlin is very adamant on them being friends.”
“See! False alarm everyone.”
“But...don’t some people just say that because they’re in denial?”
Groans echo around the kitchen, their designated place to discuss and plan. A new pairing is added to the chalkboard under Arthur x Morgana (this of course would be later erased after the Lady is revealed to be Prince Arthur’s half sister). Grumbling ensues and later Merlin x Morgana is added as well as Merlin x Lancelot. That last one had a bit more of an uproar but was still added since it was mentioned (fucking Stephen) that Merlin forged Lancelot’s nobility and Arthur was totally jealous of Merlin’s attention not on him (bless you Mary).
When the servants found out about Gwaine, well…
“I asked Merlin about his last adventure with the prince and it seems he was very soft spoken about this stranger named Gwaine,” Melody told Malifer. 
“Really? Soft spoken how?”
“From what I heard, he helped them during a brawl in the tavern—” of course he did— “and got injured. Apparently, he’s staying in Gauis’s care which means he is staying with Merlin”
Melody looked pleased with her deduction. Malifer was not. This could put a damper on the operation’s plans, so Malifer went to find him on the excuse of curiosity.
When Malifer did meet Gwaine, he found him very charming. Gwaine was courteous, fun, and incredibly likable. Malifer felt a tinge of guilt over his quick dislike of such a charming man. He had half a mind to get Gwaine to join the operation.
Unfortunately, Gwaine’s stay didn’t last long, but it was fun while it lasted. In honor of such a charming man, the operation agreed to keep the pairing between Gwaine and Merlin since, admittedly, they would be a good pair for one another.
Skipping a couple more years, (after Morgana’s fall, Uther’s death, and other events) we find ourselves back to the present with Arthur as king, the Knights of the Round Table established, and there is still no progress on those two dunderheads.
However, that doesn’t stop those two from being so disgustingly cute. Malifer sometimes catches a glimpse of King Arthur’s longing looks, touches that stay longer than Charlie would consider “friendly,” and that fucking dopey smile. The servants know very well that Merlin is head over heels. Malifer is actually surprised that they have kept this operation secret from Merlin for so long. 
It’s actually Gwen that Malifer has to thank for that. She’s been in this operation for three years and knows front and center how far gone her poor friend is. It’s also Gwen who gives Malifer the idea of asking Sir Leon for help in these trying times.
-
“So, how did it go?” Malifer asks after Leon enters their agreed meeting spot to share information. He won’t ever admit it to Leon’s face, but having Leon agree to help Operation Merthur (fucking Gwaine) was a Godsend. At this point, Malifer was grasping at the seams because he, as well as every other inhabitant in this kingdom, knew Merlin’s feelings for KIng Arthur and he knew the feelings were reciprocated. Unfortunately, intuition isn’t enough to convince said manservant to confess his feelings (not to mention Malifer is in no way able to ask that of the king being as Malifer has never conversed with him).
“The general meeting we had went well,” Malifer rolled his eyes, “but the minute I asked about him courting anyone, he got agitated.”
Interesting. 
“This could mean one of many things you know.”
Leon then rolls his eyes at Malifer. Well then, sorry for stating the obvious. “I’m well aware of that, so I pressed on.”
“And?” Malifer raises his brow. What is with knights and theatrics?
“And, well,” Leon coughed his cheeks looking a bit more pink than usual. “And well, he’s not courting anyone, but then he started venting about the...silliness of Kings being expected to court someone so soon.” Malifer has a sneaking suspicion that the king didn't say silly, but he nodded along. The king ranting is good. He could let anything slip that he would usually keep well hidden, and this is Sir Leon, King Arthur’s most trusted knight and childhood friend. “He then goes on to say how he has too much on his plate,” Understandable, “and technically he’s not really interested because…”
Malifer frowns at the sudden pause and looks up to Sir Leon (why does he have to be so tall?). His mouth is shaped in a circle. Realization flashes in his eyes. Malifer huffs and crosses his arms.
“Because…?” He taps his foot while he waits for Leon to come back from wherever his mind went. Malifer stares while he waits (he has nothing better to do, really). Sir Leon isn’t wearing his armor today which is a little odd to see since that’s all Malifer has ever seen him in, but it's not...terrible. To be honest, the armor hid a lot of the muscles Sir Leon appears to have. His arms are also crossed so it’s easier to see the muscles flexed there and-- okay! Time to get back on track and not think any more about Leon’s arms, thighs, chest, neck….fuck.
Malifer clears his throat and that seems to get Leon’s attention again. He blinks at Malifer who’s now a little more than flustered to be held under the knight’s gaze. Maifer shuffles his feet and averts his eyes anywhere but at Leon.
“Well?”
Leon coughs and straightens up. “Right. Well, he said he wasn’t interested in courting any lady’s because, well, he stopped himself there. But I think it's probably because he was going to say that it’s because he’s already interested in someone.”
Malifer’s eyes widen and he smiles. Finally! 
“And he’s not courting them?”
“No, it seems not.”
“Hm,” Malifer smirks, “I wonder why is that?”  
Leon smiles. It softens his features. It makes him look-- Malifer shakes his head. That’s not the important thing here. The important thing is that Arthur is interested in someone, but won’t court them.
“Maybe it’s because they aren't technically noble?” He ponders mockingly.
Leon nods but his smile stays firm on his face since he is in on the game. “And this person may not exactly be a lady.”
“But it is very close to him for him to be that flustered.”
They grin at each other, proud they both reached the same conclusion.
“Merlin?” Leon’s eyes twinkle with mischief that Malifer has never seen on the knight before.
“Oh most definitely.”
-
That evening, Malifer wasn’t stuck in the kitchen (Charlie was and had half a mind to murder Malifer for throwing him under the bus to escape the cook’s wrath) and was enjoying himself. He interacted with the other servants, chatted with Gwaine and Percival on the importance of sleeves (“I’m telling you, Perce. It wouldn’t hurt, and someone might try to attack them since there’s no protection.” A huff. “I would get to them first.” “Perce, please.”), and watched the king and his servant float around each other. 
Seriously, it was like they were in their own world or something. 
Merlin went to pour some water for Leon, who was next to King Arthur, but then Merlin must have said something to cause the king to tug on Merlin’s scarf pulling him eye to eye with himself. They gazed at each other for a while, forgetting that Leon was even there. Malifer saw his shoulders slump as he grabbed the pitcher to pour his own cup (it was not water). Malifer shakes his head in sympathy for the poor knight.
When the king finally let Merlin go, Malifer caught Leon’s eye and the knight only shrugged in response to Malifer’s raised eyebrow. The king seemed to catch their interaction and frowned looking between the two. He leaned in to say something that Malifer wouldn’t be able to hear. Whatever it was, it caused Sir Leon to flush profusely and hide his face in his cup while the king laughed. Malifer tilted his head in confusion then shrugged. It’s probably none of his business.
-
The next day saw Malifer's second plan go into motion: breaking Merlin. Many have tried to get him to admit his feelings, but all have failed. However, this can only work with the help of Lady Guinevere and Gaius, the royal physician. 
Malifer doesn’t know the royal physician personally, but he does know Gwen thanks to her lovely contribution to the Operation. With Gwen's help, they should be able to convince Gaius to help them in reaching their goal.
On the way to the physician’s chambers Gwen is skipping and humming in excitement while Malifer is shaking with nerves. It shouldn’t be that hard. It's Gaius, and Gwen assured Malifer that Gaius would definitely be all for this plan. While his mind is running through different scenarios on how this will pan out, he doesn’t notice someone else coming down the hallway and walks straight into metal. Fucking knights.
“Are you alright? Malifer?”
Malifer’s nose twitches as he looks up to who’s talking. Of course. Sir Leon in all his armor glory. He looks down at Malifer (seriously, Malifer isn’t that short!) his face looking concerned. Malifer’s nose twitches (winces really) again and he goes to touch it. 
“I’m fine,” he says, then winces after touching his nose. Leon frowns.
“I beg to differ.”
“Well, it sucks to suck. I’m fine, really.”
Leon still looks unconvinced but sighs as if resigned. Malifer reasons it must be because he knows other people who do the same thing.
“If you say so.”
Malifer’s lips purse. The nerve. He said he was fine. Leon doesn’t have to be concerned. He sniffs indignantly then regrets it.
“Well, I ran into you anyway, so...I’ll be careful next time.”
Leon chuckles. “I hope so.” His gaze stays fixed on Malifer and now he feels caught. Thankfully, Gwen comes to the rescue (bless her, really).
“We're sorry to have bumped into you. Anyway, we were on our way to see Gaius and it’s best to get to him before his work begins.” She gently nudges Malifer to follow her up to Gaius’s chambers. Malifer looks back to see Leon wave with a soft smile on his face. Malifer can feel his lips widen as he waves back.
“At least we now have an excuse to see him urgently,” Gwen says, but her eyes hold mischief in them. Malifer frowns. He doesn’t like where this is going.
“So.” Malifer can feel the floor escape from his feet as she turns to face him. He looks away. “You’re blushing.”
His head snaps back to her. “I am not!”
“Mhm, sure. So….” Malifer groans, already knowing where Gwen is going. “You and Sir Leon seem to be friendly.”
Malifer huffs and crosses his arms (he seems to be doing that alot). “Of course we are! He’s in on the plan. Just, he’s just here to help us get Arthur’s side just like how we’re using Gaius for Merlin! I mean, he’s not a bad guy. Isn’t snobby like some nobles and knights I know. I mean, he's no Gwaine but you know what I mean.”
“Oh? Gwaine?”
Malifer thinks his face just exploded. That’s not what he meant, and she knows that.
“I-I...I meant he’s not as down to earth as Gwaine. Gwaine’s charming, but he’s not my type.”
“And your type is…?”
Was it really taking this long to get to Gaius’s chambers? Gwen said they were close some minutes ago. He looks around avoiding Gwen and his obvious blush. He finds a sign to the chambers not long after and gives out a sigh of relief.
“Come on, the physician’s chamber is this way. I would like to get my nose treated, thank you very much.”
Gwen sighs and follows him up the stairs. Hoping that Gaius will help them in their plan.
-
“Of course I will!” Gaius exclaims.
Well, that was easy.
Gwen smiles and thanks Gaius while he continues to treat Malifer’s nose. He winces a couple of times but other than that he can feel his nose starting to recover.
“I’ve been living with that boy long enough to get tired of his obvious pining and the King-” Gaius rolls his eyes, “-I’ve been taking care of him since he was a little boy. Both of them are quite the pair aren’t they?”
Gwen and Malifer nod in agreement. Nobody is blind when it comes to seeing King Arthur and Merlin’s affections for one another. Now with Gaius’s help, they could find a way to speed up the torturous pining that this kingdom has been suffering from.
“So, what’s the plan?”
Malifer begins to explain his and other’s findings, as well as what Leon has been telling him. Gaius nods along and begins to share his own ideas. Gaius seems against anything that would be surrounded following Merlin, but concedes to confronting Merlin on confessing. Gwen adds that Arthur could be confronted on the fact of why he isn’t inclined to court anyone. 
It’s while they are in their hushed conversation that a tired Merlin enters the chambers. Gaius notices first and opens his mouth to greet him, but something weird happens. Malifer, who could have sworn that his eyes were deceiving him, watched as Merlin's eyes glowed gold and the chair near the shelf covered in potions moved closer to Merlin. Once it’s behind him, Merlin collapses on top of it. Malifer’s jaw drops.
“Merlin!” Gaius hisses. That seems to wake up the servant (no, sorcerer). He dazedly looks up at Gaius and smiles, raising his hand up to wave but freezes. It seems he notices Gwen and Malifer now. His smile falls.
“Well,” Malifer says, eyes still wide, “this complicates things.”
part 2
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boldlyinnocent317 · 2 years
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for @drarrymicrofic | prompt : good
“Sit still, Harry.”
“Shall I tie him up, Thomas?”
“No. No, that would ruin the pose,” Dean laughed and waved the offer off, concentrating on the hands. ‘I must not tell lies’ resting close to a faded twisted snake. Green eyes intertwined with grey so intricately that Dean had to blink a few times to get the right shades on his palette. And he simply couldn’t do justice to their blindingly bright, smitten smiles on a white canvas.
“I’d said no kissing....” Dean admonished for the dozenth time. “Look straight, both of you.”
“Don't you think that’s a little impossible at this point?” Draco’s posed smirk cracked into a wolfish grin at Harry’s shameless quip.
Dean merely shook his head, chuckling as he carefully added the finishing touches to the twin gold bands resting beautifully on their fingers.
Strong, proud and sparkling
They looked good together.
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Talk (Silence)
~
Danny has gotten used to not having to watch what he said as the years went by.
In Amity everyone basically knew he was Phantom and just treated it as normal, and he had already told his parents what had happened,
They did a total 180 on their opinions, now chasing after ghosts to question them about everything they could squeeze out of them.
They were very proud of Danny too, often helping him with their technology.
Having said that he got used to not watching what he said in Amity, everyone knew so why bother right?
Unfortunately he was not in Amity
He was in Gotham visiting Jazz, who had moved for University.
They were currently in a cafe catching up, talking as their used to.
Not realizing that their conversation without context sounded very worrying.
~
Jazz: " So how are mod and dad?"
Danny: "Oh you know the usual, they're making new weapons, hopefully this time they wont target me, getting shot sucks, but I prefer it over getting electrocuted "
Jazz: " Good luck!"
(TOPC)The other people in the cafe: What the fuck
~
Danny: " Vlad keeps putting cameras in my room, so I went and confronted him about it again, I don't care that he's the mayor! "
Jazz: " He really needs some therapy"
Danny: " He's a fruitloop, he's beyond help"
TOPC: *concerned side eye*
~
Jazz: "You know I was a bit more worried about the criminals here, but honestly weak, I miss actual competent villains"
Danny: "I told you!"
TOPC not sure if they should be offended or wary of where they live
~
Jazz: " You know I kinda miss the food back home"
Danny: "What that it would come back to life and fight you to the death?"
Jazz: " I mean that too, but I was talking about the taste"
Danny: " Oh yes the chemically contaminated food really has some extra flavor compared to this" *gestures at his plate*
~
Danny: " I went to the park to play with Cujo and got kidnapped and they almost cut me in half"
Danny/Jazz: "Typical Friday!"
TOPC recording on their phones to make sure they're not hallucinating, someone is live tweeting.
~
Just an Idea
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satoshy12 · 5 months
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Amity Parker Don't understand other Hero cities.
And started a massive pilgrimage to Amity Park.
It all started when a few people from Amity Park went on a field trip to other hero cities and got very confused pretty fast. - What do you mean people die here so often in hero fights? - What do you mean by buildings getting destroyed and not fixed? (blob Ghost do that all the time, they seem to love it!) Are your hero not doing their job!!!?
At first, the people of Gotham, Metropolis, Coast City, Bludhaven, or Dakoto City were pissed, but after the people of Amity Park just said they should stay a few weeks in their city, they would notice it. After one week in the new city,  most people moved out of their city to Amity Park. While this city had once a week has a world-ending threat, that threat seems to just have fun with the child hero in a fight. And those people helped them. The Victims of Scarecrow actually got help from the Master of Fear Fright Knight, who fixed their minds.
Number 1 rule in Amity Park - Don't feed the tiny cryptid Fenton after 10 p.m.; the last time we had winter in the summer was because of that. - Yes, they are fangs, and they are real. Don't try to let yourself be bitten. When he slept, the last one almost lost their hand. + The other Hero in their cities didn't take long to notice it, that they have significantly fewer people living in their cities. Like most of their cities, they lost 30–50% of their civilians! And no one seems to want to tell them where they are, as more civilians are leaving!
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"Jean noticed how Andrew and Neil moved like they were caught in each other’s gravity, in each other’s space more than they were out of it, cigarette smoke and matching armbands and lingering looks when one fell out of orbit for too long."
Nora Sakavic, via twitter
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mirroringdust · 1 year
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The Conversation at Table 5
SPOILER THE HOLLOW BOY AND THE CREEPING SHADOW
//
The Dreadful conversation mentioned in The Creeping Shadow as (mainly) observed by an outsider (Part 1 posted so far)
Sneak Peek:
They sat down in a café at a corner next to an old church that not many people went to anymore after that haunting there last year. And agents never went here, so it would be quiet. Lockwood had always regretted that they hadn’t been chosen for the job at that church, because it would have gone so much smoother with Lockwood&co. It always did when his agency was in charge. He lowered his head for a moment and when he looked up he saw Lucy staring at him. That brought him back from his calm and soothing daydream where everything was as it should be. When he was in charge. And it still could be this way. He answered Lucy’s look with a steady smile. Then he shook the mist that just surrounded his whole senses with a cloud away into the far distance. And he put on a well-rehearsed grin. This was not over, he was still present, still here with her. He lifted the sides of his coat a little and opened the door of the cafe to let Lucy in. Her expression did not change, but she went in very quickly, looking focused.
Lockwood frowned when she was already inside and could not see him. He couldn't grasp her, it irritated him. The way she had just announced that she was leaving the agency could not have been calculated in any way. Lockwood would never have calculated it. It was just an impulsive decision. He followed her inside. The dust of the afternoon lay on the coffee tables and drifted into the air in a cloud that smelled of with tea and biscuits. It was a comforting smell of normality.
"Shall we sit here?" Lucy pointed to a table near the window, the sound of determination in her voice. She wants to get this over with. Lockwood nodded automatically but he paused for a short moment before joining her. Still, it must have been an impulsive decision. He stretched out his hands, half covered by his black sleeves. It must have been because that meant he could still change her mind. And she would stay. Finishing that thought, he took the seat opposite Lucy’s. He focused on her directly, looked straight into her eyes and then made his determination cross with hers. She would not leave the agency. She could not. She could not leave him.
The bit of dry dirt at the bottom of the window glittered in the sun and cast a soft light on their table while a mellow sound kept the spinning of time under cover.
***
Keira was having a normal afternoon in her favourite cafe, well normal considering she was used to sitting here and reading and watching the pigeons outside the window picking up crumps as the sun came through the glass and thickened the air. What was not normal was that she had work to do. Finally, someone trusted her with research for the next case of the agency she was working in. She tapped her pencil on the old coffee table and played with her hair. She stared at the small white notepad. Just a little brainstorming, she thought, just concentrate for a while. It couldn't be that hard. Keira could finally prove herself and find out where the source of that bloody old widow was (bloody she was quite literally). It was a tedious and boring task. Keira blew out the air with a sigh causing the hairs that had fallen into her face to fly out of her sight.
She looked at the wall, then outside again, then in front of her. A few people were sitting and talking next to her on table 7. Keira focused on them trying to find anything to distract her. The coffee tables were lined on the window with benches on either side of the tables. It was a rather unusual cafe for London but Keira loved it for that particular reason. Here she was mostly undisturbed by other agents and could take a break from all the confusion outside, hunting ghosts, and (at least most of the time) think straight. Except now when she was supposed to be thinking straight and was just looking around. She sat on Table 4 and table 5 was still empty just as the ones close to the bar, where the waitress was cleaning the coffee machine. Spending so much time in the cafe had given her knowledge of all the processes in here and she was a good observer, she knew which table had which number. Another reason the guy from her agency (she didn't like him enough to name him) was dumb not to give her more research assignments. Locating sources would be a child’s play for her.
Something suddenly caught her eye. A boy and a girl had just entered the cafe, paused at the entrance and then, after a few moments, sat down at the table exactly opposite to Keira; the previously mentioned Table 5. And just like that she was not the only agent in here anymore. Both of them weren't in uniform but she immediately knew who they were. The boy was wearing a long coat and underneath a shirt with a black tie. It would have looked odd, being a little too big for him, but something in the way he moved and the way he glanced into the void frowning made him look much older than he was. But he wasn't an adult yet. Keira knew this because she had seen him before. She might not be one of the best employees at her agency and she also did not have the best talent. Just a little bit of sight that flickered at moments. But apart from knowing this café very well, which however would not help her at her job, she had a good memory, she could remember anything she had once seen. Not that it would be difficult to remember him actually. He had been in the news quite often. The leader of Lockwood&Co.
Read the Rest on AO3
Thank you so much for any feedback! Part 2 follows very soon (already have part of it written)
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franklespine · 2 months
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So I get it, House is a pretty messed up guy. Old news. I already knew that coming in to the show. But nothing prepared me for how genuinely batshit insane Wilson is. He offers to pay back a patients loan on his house because he got a diagnosis wrong. He donated a piece of his liver to his patient who was only a vague friend who he doesn't even seem to enjoy hanging out with that much. He noticed his patient had depression purely because he didn't talk about his grandkids. He was going to jeopardise his entire career to make a euthanasia speech because one of his patients suffered all the way to his death. He drove a patient home, did her groceries, cleaned her house and then slept with her. Not to mention he like is the only one who can actually mess back with House with his crazy manipulation tactics, like he can fr be an incredibly manipulative schemer if he thinks its for House's (or occasionally someone else's) benefit.
Just damn. He is crazy.
........there is no way this guy had a healthy relationship with his parents.
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sp0o0kylights · 9 months
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Part One / Part Two (You are Here) / Part Three 
A03
Hopper had undersold Harrington's condition. 
Wayne hadn't expected anything pretty, but the face that turned to them as they walked through the door almost had him freezing in place. 
Black eye, bruised chin, split lip. 
More and more bruises, some faded and some very new, trailing down the kids neck. 
 The rest was hidden by his preppy little polo shirt, but Wayne didn't doubt that there were more.
Harrington tried to stand when they entered the room and the way he moved--entirely unbalanced, clearly in a lot of pain--made Wayne think the only thing the kid really needed was a hospital. 
Because Steve Harrington hadn't just been beaten. 
He'd been tortured--and very recently strangled. 
(Abruptly, Wayne realized that Hopper had implied the boy had been in the mall fire--just as much as he implied the mall fire was anything but. 
He also hadn't stated how Harrington had escaped the Suites trying to break into his house.) 
"Sit down." Hopper commanded, and Wayne expected Harrington to do anything but listen. 
Say something cocky, or act the part of a demanding little shit maybe, despite the condition he was in.
Instead the kid just sighed in relief and dropped like a stone, right back into the chair. 
Hopper came around his desk, talking all the while. "Steve, this is Wayne. Wayne, Steve."
"Hello Sir." Steve croaked politely. His voice was wrecked, no doubt from the necklace of finger shaped bruises around his neck.
"You're going to stay with him for a while, and you're gonna pay him for the privilege." Hopper informed him, as he began digging around his desk. "Money, chores, whatever Wayne wants." 
Wayne held his gaze as Steve turned to appraise him. 
Would Harrington pitch a fit? 
Would he look at Wayne's work clothes, streaked with dirt and sweat, with the name of the warehouse embroidered in the corner and crinkle up his nose, just like his daddy did? 
Hopper didn't lie, but a part of Wayne wanted to see just how different this Harrington was. If the respectful demeanor was an act done for Hopper. 
Or perhaps, Hopper had mentioned Steve's father for a reason, instead of his mother. Did he adopt her ice-like approach to life? 
Micro managing and long-held grudges were Stella Harrington’s game, and she excelled at it. 
Steve however, did nothing of the sort, instead settling with the situation in a way that reminded Wayne far too strongly of the men and women who'd come home from war.
"Okay." The kid said simply, after a long moment of consideration. He turned back to Hopper. "But we need to tell the rest of the Par--" 
Here he cut a look back to Wayne, correcting himself. "the kids. I don't want them showing up at my house trying to find me and freaking out." 
"They wouldn't--" Jim paused, fingers freezing from the rummaging they'd been doing. "they absolutely would, goddammit." He muttered darkly.  
"I'll tell the kids. The only thing I want you doing right now is laying low. I need to get a hold of Owens, but it's gonna take time to do that, and more time to fix this, so as of right now, Harrington? You're on vacation." He pointed sternly, as if Steve might argue.
The kid looked too tired and messed up to bother trying. 
"I mean it. You're out of the country, where is anybody's guess. No one's seen you and no one better be seeing you, got it?" His voice held firm, and Wayne had to blink because the tone here wasn't one of a police chief warning a teenager--but of a father talking to his son.
He knew, because his own voice did that now. Took on a worried tone that masqueraded as something more like annoyance and seriousness. 
"Yes, Sir." Harrington said, remaining weirdly compliant. "Consider me gone." 
A hand came up to briefly press above one eye, and Wayne wondered if the kid had been looked over, or if they had just crammed him into Hopper's office without offering so much as a tissue box. 
How many painkillers did they have back at the house? Wayne usually kept a good bottle around, but Steve was going to need more than that…
He found himself once again cataloging Steve's wounds, this time comparing them to the medicine cabinet he had at home. 
"I expect you to be a damn good house guest, you hear me?" Hopper continued, trying to cut a menacing figure. He finally found what he was looking for; pulling out a large, padded envelope. 
He handed it over to Harrington, who took it without looking, shoving it into the duffle bag he'd had sitting at his feet. 
There was a smudge of red on the handle of said bag, that matched perfectly up to a shittily done wrap on Steve's right hand. 
Wayne mentally added 'buy more bandages' to his list. 
Steve nodded at Hopper again. "Yes, Sir."
Jim’s eyes narrowed. "Quite that, you know I hate that." 
The briefest glimmer of mischief crossed Harrington's face. "Sorry, Sir. Won't happen again, Sir."
'Ahh.' Wayne thought. 'So there's a teenager in there after all.'
Jim rolled his eyes. "Get out of my office."
"Thanks Hop." Harrington said, finally dropping that odd obedience, a hint of a smile on his battered face. 
He stood, and Wayne had to stop himself from offering an arm out as Steve reached for his bag and limped towards him. 
He paused right before he left Hopper's office, hand on the doorframe.
 "You'll check up on Robin too, right?"  He asked, and for the first time his tone took on something more alive--and filled with worry. "And Dustin? Erica?" 
"Dustin and his mom are finally taking me up on my suggestion to see their family in Florida for a while, and the Sinclairs are taking a sabbatical from Hawkins. I'm working on the Buckley's." Hopper drummed his fingers on the desk. "So far, no one else besides you and El have been targeted, and we're going to keep it that way."
Steve let out a breath, and while Wayne could tell the worry hadn't left him, he could almost physically see Steve force himself to put it away.
Another act that was far beyond the kid's years. 
A different officer popped up as they walked down the hall towards the exit, waving his hand madly. "Harrington! Chief says you forgot this!" He barked.
(Or tried to anyway. Callahan wasn’t the most aggressive of officers and frankly, never would be.)
A slim sports bag was held in his hands, and Steve nearly tripped over his own feet when he tried to turn and claim it.
"I'll get it." Wayne said, knowing his tone sounded gruff.
No use for it. He could either sound gruff or sound sad, and Wayne knew better than to start off the relationship with yet another hurt young man by acting sad.
Pity wasn't gonna win him any favors here. 
He took the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, uncaring of the wince on Harrington's face until something sharp poked at his shoulder. 
Several somethings, in fact. 
"What the hell do you got in this thing?" He asked once they hit the parking lot, voice low as he escorted Steve to his truck. 
"Just a baseball bat, sir." Steve said, in the exact same tone Eddie used every time he thought he was bein’ slick. 
Considering the thing in the bag could have passed for a baseball bat if not for the sharp pokey bits, it wasn’t a bad attempt. Steve just hadn’t accounted for the fact that Wayne lived with Eddie. 
An unfair advantage, really. 
‘Least there can’t be any baby racoons in the damn bag.’ Wayne thought idly. 
Went on to gently put the bat in the backseat, watching as the kid struggled to lift himself into the truck.
"You can drop that, I take too being called Sir about as well as Hop does." He said, keeping his tone nice and calm, hoping to ease into calling Steve out on his lie. 
Fussed with a few dials on the stereo, giving Steve an excuse to take his time before starting the engine and taking the long way home.
Wayne wanted to talk a little-- without the chance of Ed’s interrupting. 
"Son,” He started off. “I was born in the morning, but not this morning. I'm hoping to make the next few weeks as easy as I can for both of us, and I can't do that if you're starting off with a lie." 
Steve blinked, turning to face him in a matter that was too fast for his injuries. He didn't bother hiding the hurt it caused him, but his voice stayed even as he spoke.
 "What do you mean Si--Wayne." 
"Nice catch.”  Wayne said. “We’ll get you there yet.” 
It was a trick he'd learned with Eddie--little tidbits of praise went a long way when it came to gaining trust.
Especially with kids who hadn't ever been given much. 
Harrington seemed smart to it, or perhaps was just hesitant to speak in general because he remained quiet, not offering up any info. No further lies, but nothing towards the truth, neither. 
Which was fine. Wayne didn’t think a little pushing would hurt.
"That bat of yours was digging into my shoulder like a bee swarm." Wayne continued, when it became clear Steve wasn't talking. "I'm more a fan of football than baseball, but last I checked they hadn't changed the design of a bat." 
"What teams?" Steve asked, perking up a touch. "Of football. Which ones are yours?"
Wayne could ignore it of course, or demand Steve give him an answer to the question he asked. 
He did neither. "I’m liking the Colts since they got moved here. You?" 
"Green Bay Packers, though I like the Colts too--that trade in 84’ was crazy." Steve said. After a second he proved that answering instead of pushing was the right move because he added; "What did Hopper tell you? About…" He trailed off, making a gesture Wayne didn't bother trying to interpret. 
"He said some things. I've guessed a few others." Wayne admitted. Cut a little look out of the corner of his eye as he came to a stop sign. "I know the feds are real interested in you after Starcourt." 
Steve took that in, hands tightening on the handle. 
"It really is a baseball bat." He said, a little fast and with the tiniest hint of that challenge Wayne had been looking for. "It just also has nails hammered into one end." 
Wayne took that in with one nice, slow blink. 
"A bat with nails in it." He said, and it made a hell of a lot of sense compared to the sensation he'd felt carrying the case. "You use it against anyone?" 
"Some of the feds." Steve admitted, and even with his eyes on the road Wayne could tell he was being stared at.
Judged.
Not in the way one expected a rich kid to judge, but in the way Eddie had, those first few months he'd lived here. The times when  he'd push, just a little, to see what Wayne's reaction would be. 
Eddie hadn't done it in a damn long time, but Wayne recognized the behavior nonetheless. 
"Anybody else?" He asked. 
"Nobody human." Steve replied. 
"Alright." Wayne said, and made a mental note to drop all questions related to that. 
He didn't need to know, definitely didn't want to know, and had a feeling if he did know he'd find himself being watched by the same spooks after Steve.
"I've got a few deck boxes that lock on my porch. Think you'd be agreeable to leaving the bat in one?" 
Steve paused, hand clenching tighter around the strap of his duffel bag. "If you gave me a key so I could get it in an emergency,  I'd be happy to." 
He tried to sound calm, even a little charming in that sort of upper-class businessman sort of way, but the fear bled through. 
The kid wasn't happy separating from the bat, and given it sounded like it might have saved his life recently, Wayne understood the hesitation. 
With an internal apology to Eddie, he promptly threw his nephew under the proverbial bus.  "I've got my nephew at home and he'd be far too interested in it, is all. Blades and weapons and such tend to attract him, and I don't need to be rushing anyone to the ER." 
All of which were very true facts (one Wayne learned the time he'd allowed Eddie to bring a sword  home, only for him to nearly cut his own nose off winging the thing around) but he figured it might make Steve more amenable to separating from it. 
Sure enough, some of the tenseness bled out of Steve's shoulders. "Yeah that's fair." 
The truck hit a few potholes as they finally turned into the trailer park, and the kid hissed, a quiet sound. 
Judging by the uncomfortable wince, and hands clenched into his jeans something painwise was giving him trouble. 
"When was the last time you took a pain pill?" Wayne asked, doing his best to weave around the other holes that dotted the gravel roads.
Steve blinked. "Uh…" 
"You take any today son?" 
Steve his head. 
"Didn't have time to grab it." He said, offering a sad look to his pack. 
Course he hadn't. 
"Let's get you inside then and get you some." Wayne said with a sigh. Thankfully Eddie's van wasn't here--Wayne was fairly certain he had band practice today but knowing him it could be a million other things.
Just meant he had to acclimate Steve as fast as he could, to try and get the poor guy settled before Ed’s came in. 
He just hoped life and lady luck would work with him, for once. 
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weaponizedducks · 3 months
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imagine what the ealdor villagers must have thought of merlin. when he lived there they thought he was a bit odd, probably accident prone, on the outside, bit of a funny guy. he had exactly one friend. all of a sudden he leaves to go to fucking camelot of all places. why? stfu we don't need a why. they think nothing of it and forget about him.
IMAGINE THEIR REACTION WHEN HE RANDOMLY SHOWS UP WITH THE FUCKING PRINCE OF CAMELOT, THEIR ENEMY, FOLLOWING HIM LIKE A LOST PUPPY. I WOULD BE SHOCKED OUT OF MY FUCKING SKIN IF A LITTLE WEIRDO REAPPEARED HAVING BAGGED A PRINCE. NO WONDER WILL WAS SUSPICIOUS. WHY IS AN ENEMY PRINCE HERE. WHY IS HE HARDCORE FLIRTING WITH MY BESTIE. WHY IS HE SO WHIPPED.
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bloodydeanwinchester · 2 months
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Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
DESTIEL IN EVERY EPISODE → 5x04 the end
dean immediately clocking 2014!dean's jealousy like "what could this mean???"
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zunaki · 1 year
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Wangxian in public being disgustingly in love and the Juniors on a matchmaking mission
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steddiealltheway · 5 months
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Hopper has always been fine with El hanging out with what she calls “the whole party” because that means that Max will be there. And if she’s with Max, that means less time with Mike. And less time with Mike, is one of Hopper’s favorite things.
Unfortunately, Hopper comes to find out that “the whole party” also includes Eddie Munson. But unlike most of the idiots in Hawkins, Hopper knows that Eddie’s a good kid who wouldn’t (or more likely couldn’t) harm a fly. On the other hand, he’s also the kid who used to deal Hopper his weed for super cheap in exchange for some fatherly advice and maybe a get out of jail free card every now and then. (Really, the kid just had a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Hopper would just happen to turn a blind eye and forget to file the paperwork which was really just unnecessary extra work).
But this all makes it hard to answer El’s question of why she’s not allowed to hang out with the whole party this time. Fortunately, she’s quick to ask more questions such as, “Is it because Eddie is an older boy? Because you were fine with us hanging out with Steve.”
“And Steve would keep you guys in line and safe.”
El crossed her arms. “And what if I guaranteed that every time Eddie was there, Steve would be too?”
And Hopper thought that maybe that was actually a good solution. Harrington was known to babysit a multitude of kids at once, so adding on Eddie to the group wouldn’t be too much of an ask.
Cue Steve and Eddie being practically attached at the hip a few weeks later, and Hopper realizing he accidentally played matchmaker.
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riality-check · 2 years
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This is not how Wayne was expecting to come home from work.
He had expected, as usual, that Eddie would be asleep, and he’d be free to watch the 5:00 AM news. He’d have a bowl of cereal for dinner (or was it breakfast at that point?), and then he’d be out like a light while Eddie did whatever it was he did before noon. Usually, that was sleep.
The exact opposite of what Wayne was expecting is happening right now. 
He didn’t even get his keys out of his pocket before Eddie whips the door open. He looks a mess: hair tied back loosely, pajamas off kilter, panic mixed with exhaustion on his face.
“Oh, thank Christ,” he croaks. “Wayne, I need your help. I have no idea what to do.”
Wayne can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Eddie panic like this. He shoulders past him into the trailer and is greeted with the sight of Steve Harrington standing in the middle of his living room.
“What on God’s green earth,” he murmurs. He blinks, then blinks again, but Harrington is still there, in pajamas, the tire iron Eddie still keeps under his bed in his hands. He’s breathing real heavy, and he stares out the window, stock-still.
“The hell happened?” Wayne asks, keeping his voice low.
“I don’t know,” Eddie whispers desperately. “I don’t know what happened, but he got up and grabbed the iron and just stood here-”
“How long?”
“Ten minutes, maybe.”
Wayne doesn’t like where this is going. “Has he responded to you at all?”
“No-”
Shit.
“-but I can try again?”
Wayne eyes the white-knuckled grip Harrington has on the tire iron. He’s ready to swing, and Wayne knows he’ll swing hard if given the chance.
No way he’s risking Eddie. No way he’s risking Harrington. Wayne doesn’t know him well, only met him a few times in passing, but he knows he’d never forgive himself if he hurt Eddie.
“No. Don’t try again.”
“I’m not leaving him.”
“Didn’t ask you to. All I’m saying is don’t go near.”
Eddie is very good at following instructions to the letter and to the letter only, much to Wayne’s fond annoyance. So, he doesn’t go near.
Instead, he says, voice strangely soft, “Stevie, sweetheart.”
Harrington doesn’t respond, but he turns a little in the direction of Eddie’s voice. Wayne takes that as a good sign, even if he can see the tension on his face now.
“Will you come back to sleep? Please?” Wayne hates hearing Eddie’s voice crack the way it is right now.
Harrington faces them a little better, and Wayne sees what he was expecting.
He’s staring through them, not at them. Wherever Harrington is, it sure ain’t here.
“I don’t know how much that’s gonna help, Eddie. He’s having-”
“I know he’s having a flashback, Wayne!” Eddie snaps. “I’m not stupid. It’s usually just not this bad, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
“Alright,” Wayne says because snapping back won’t help anyone. That and because he’s trying to process the fact that Eddie has had to deal with this before. “Let me try.”
He takes a few steps toward Harrington, keeping his hands up and his movements slow.
“Harrington,” he calls, keeping his tone light. “You’re at Eddie’s place right now. It’s almost five AM on a Friday night.”
Harrington blinks, and it looks like his eyes are coming back into focus.
“You’re safe right now. Eddie’s safe right now.”
Harrington shakes his head and lifts the tire iron a little higher. Christ, his arms must be aching by now. “No. I saw the lights flicker, and I heard a thud outside, and it got cold.”
“Stevie, the gate’s closed,” Eddie pleads. “You saw it happen. Nothing got out. You’re safe.”
Wayne doesn’t know what any of that means, but even though it was supposed to reassure Harrington, he just shakes his head again.
He hears Eddie sigh behind him, and he knows without turning around that he’s trying not to cry.
Guess he’s gotta try something different, then. “You just wake up?”
Harrington blinks, and for a minute, Wayne thinks this won’t get them anywhere. But then he whispers, just loud enough to be heard, “Yeah.”
“Okay. I just got off work.”
Harrington stares at him, confused.
“So, I think I’m a little more awake than you. I’ll take what you’ve got in your hands, and I can stay up.”
Harrington shakes his head. “It’s fine. I stay up most of the time when I’m alone.”
Alone. Wayne knows from experience, both personal and witnessing this shit, that alone is the last thing anyone should be when they’re having a flashback. Harrington says it like it’s the only thing he’s ever known.
He dismisses his questions - why is Harrington having flashbacks, why is he alone - and focuses on getting him to put down the tire iron and go to bed.
“You’re not alone this time,” Wayne says. “You’ve got Eddie here, too, and I think both of you would feel better if you were together.”
Harrington looks over Wayne’s shoulder. Wayne doesn’t turn around, but he can imagine the pleading look on Eddie’s face just fine.
Wayne holds out his hands for the tire iron, and after a minute, or maybe a month, Harrington sets it there. Immediately, he looks lighter and heavier.
Eddie walks up next to Wayne and murmurs, “Come on, sugar.”
Harrington goes to him and just rests his head on his shoulder. Eddie holds him there, just standing in the middle of the living room, sunrise just starting to peek in through the windows.
Thank you, he mouths to Wayne.
Wayne nods, but he’s got a hell of a lot more questions than answers - what the hell brought this on, what exactly is Harrington to Eddie. That can wait for morning, though.
For now, he just hopes Harrington will be okay by then.
No, not Harrington. Steve.
After something like this, Wayne has learned, you start using first names.
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theminecraftbee · 5 months
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genuinely there is something about. both cleo and etho have "scary" reputations. reputations as "survivors". and yet they are BOTH people who deeply, deeply bond with their allies in the series, and are deeply loyal. and they ACT like they're a bit distant but they aren't. and sure, cleo is a bit more obvious about the loyalty. but i think etho ALSO holds on until he can't hold on anymore. it's just that i think etho is waiting to have to cut his losses the whole time, even as that kills him.
so like, the fact that they're each other's ride-or-die partners for life this season is insane actually i am losing my mind,
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