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luxaofhesperides · 2 months

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Ghostlight prompt: Danny and Duke being childhood friends, but Danny tells Duke the moment the accident happens and such cause he trusts him, only for Danny to go radio silent when giw decide to block the town communications in senior year.

So Duke-does he tell Danny he's Signal or not? Up to you-gets worried the longer no contact goes by.

Maybe the away game thing seen in other posts where the sports team still does away games and Danny gets enough good will with star or dash maybe and they send a message to Duke that's some coded phrase and Duke knows shits going down?

(yourlocalcorviddad, it's a side blog so didn't want to send from main sorry)

Danny is not someone who is on his mind a lot, these days. It’s to be expected, considering how distance and their double lives eat up all the time they have to talk. Really, it’s a miracle that they were able to speak enough to learn about their own individual vigilante work, especially with Duke bouncing around foster homes for a good portion of that time.

They haven’t spoke in months but that’s normal for them.

Duke thinks he can be forgiven for not knowing something was wrong. He still won’t forgive himself for it.

“Danny’s gone?” he repeats, feeling numb. There’s static ringing in his ears, his entire world hollowing out.

The guy in front of him looks grim, unable to meet Duke’s eyes. Did he introduce himself? Duke can’t remember, can’t keep his spiraling thoughts straight in his head. “He’s gone. His entire family is gone and we haven’t been able to call for help because… well…”

“It’s those guys, right? The ones in white?”

“You know about them?”

“Danny told me. Danny told me a lot about what he did in Amity Park.”

The guy lets out a slow, relieved breath. “Good, then I don’t have to explain. Sorry, it’s just that it’s not something we talk about, especially out in the open. After the last few months, things got really bad. We know the GIW took the Fentons, but we can’t find out how or why and they’ve got us on a tight lockdown.”

“Then how did you get out?” Duke asks. Another arguably more important question pops into his mind a second later. “Actually, how do you know about Danny and… you know. The other things.”

The grimness on the guy’s expression fades away some beneath the sudden shame and embarrassment. “Oh, that. Well, I dunno how much he told you about his, like, daily life, but, um. I’m Dash. Baxter. I bullied him?”

Dash.

Dash. That’s a name he recognizes.

Danny’s complained about Dash a lot in the past. Since they were in middle school, really. Duke would always get mad on Danny’s behalf about how terribly he’s being treated, how no one would stop such obvious bullying. And every time, Danny would laugh it off and say in that soft voice of his, It’s alright, Duke, really. Having you care is more than enough for me.

It never stopped the bullying, though, but the way Danny talked about Dash changed when they both entered high school. He was still annoyed about everything Dash did, but there were less insults about him, less venting about every little thing that pissed Danny off about him, as if he just didn’t care anymore.

And there is, of course, the most memorable time Danny called Duke about Dash over the summer.

Hey, Danny, Duke had began, only to be cut off by Danny yelling, I kissed Dash?! Or he kissed me?! What am I supposed to do now!

And Duke, despite the jealousy he felt at hearing that Danny and Dash kissed, laughed so hard he cried while Danny yelled at him to be helpful.

There wasn’t any discussion on Dash since, beyond a comment here and there about a funny fanboying thing Dash had said about Phantom. The focus of their conversations shifted towards how hard it was to be heroes or vigilantes, quiet reassurances that they’re both doing the best they can, tips traded about best ways to patch themselves up and get through the night. Sometimes, it felt like Danny was the only person in the world to really know Duke; all his pain and promises, his dreams, everything he was Before and who he became in the After.

He’s missed Danny, but the last message Danny sent him told him that things were getting rough in Amity Park, and to not call or contact him until he reached out first.

So Duke trusted in Danny and focused his attention in Gotham, putting his all into becoming a better hero, someone people can rely on.

He thinks that maybe he should have fallen into the Bats’ bad habits of invading privacy to make sure Danny’s okay.

Too late for that now, though.

“I know you,” Duke says after a long moment. “He talked about you sometimes. Come with me, we have a lot to discuss.”

Dash looks appropriately nervous, but he doesn’t argue.

It’s a tense, quiet walk to the library where Barbara works. She’s stationed at the front desk when he arrives and greets him with a smile, eyes flicking towards Dash in question.

“Hey, Babs, got a private study room open?”

Her gaze sharpens and Duke can’t help the feeling of relief that flows through him, knowing that Oracle is ready to look out for him. “Let me check,” she says, turning towards the computer to click around a few pages. “Study room 8 is open.”

That’s the study room with a working lock and soundproofing. It also has cameras and a mic inside, but all the other study rooms have one too, just for safety purposes. Things could always go terribly wrong when people are locked together in a small room, and having video and audio evidence of what happened has assisted in more than a few cases.

He leads them up to the second floor, past the students studying and the group of young children in the back corner of the library listening intently to a read aloud.

The only occupied study rooms are those up front, closer to the stairs. The back rooms are empty and quiet, the perfect place for a little impromptu interrogation.

“So,” Duke says as he closes the door to study room 8 behind them. Dash sits down as if this is just a casual conversation, but the way his foot taps against the floor betrays his nerves. “Danny’s gone. And somehow, that lead you to me.”

Dash glance around, then leans closer to drop his voice into a harsh whisper. “The Guys In White got some insane upgrades a few months ago and forced every citizen of Amity Park into a surveillance state. The entire Fenton family is gone, but we all know it’s really because they want Danny.”

“Explain the situation in Amity Park some more.”

“Well. It’s like this: we didn’t take them seriously, so they upped their moves and got us trapped. No one goes in or out of Amity Park without good, verifiable reason. We have a curfew and we can be randomly stopped and searched for ectoplasm or exposure to ghosts. Most of the ghosts have left, but a few of the stronger ones hang around to cause trouble to get the GIW off our backs for a bit.”

“So how did you end up in Gotham?”

“I was invited to tour the college. And since outsiders were expecting me, the GIW let me go. But there’s definitely some that tailed me to Gotham, but I can’t find them at all. Even talking to you now is a huge risk for me.”

Which means they don’t have much time to talk before someone comes looking for Dash. His words, paired with everything Duke’s heard from Danny, paint a deeply unpleasant picture in his mind. “Are you going to be in trouble?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. It’s Danny we’re all worried about. He told me before he got caught that if anything happened to him, I should find you. Tucker helped us narrow down where exactly you are and sent you that text to get you to where we met.”

“What do you think I can do?”

“I don’t know,” Dash admits. “But Danny trusts you, and he needs your help.”

Duke was never going to say no to this request to begin with, but damn if those words don’t make him want to run to Amity Park without waiting for anyone else.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay. I’ll help rescue him and bring down the GIW. You should go now, before they get too suspicious.”

“What are you planning?”

“I got a couple of friends who are good at destroying government property. Trust me, you’ll see what we’re up, we’re pretty noticeable if we’re pissed off enough.”

“Don’t take too long then,” Dash says, standing up, “I expect a good show from you. See you around, man.”

And with that, Dash pats Duke’s shoulder and leaves the study room. Duke doesn’t follow after him. He’s got a rescue to start planning, and the less time he wastes, the better.

In the end, it’s pretty simple. It’s not a hard mission at all when the time comes for them to act, but the amount of data they gather and have to shift through is daunting. But that’s more Tim and Barbara’s forte, so he trusts them to handle it.

Together with Red Robin, Spoiler, and Black Bat, they hit Amity Park hard and fast.

One night was spent learning the lay of the land and every station and lab set up by the GIW. The second night was spent burning it all down and tossing open cages full of green blob ghosts and a few transparent, weakly glowing human ghosts. Stronger ghosts, glowing brightly, joined them in a few places with battle cries and maniacal laughter.

They split up and took down all the bases and patrol stations on their own, sweeping through the city like vengeful shadows.

By dawn, the GIW were in shambles, without any bases or equipment, and rounded up for arrest.

Cass was the one to find Danny and his family; his parents were forced to create weapons for the GIW under threat of Danny and Jazz’s torture. Danny was locked up like an animal and studied. Jazz had restraints on, including a muzzle, and a bloodthirsty rage in her eyes. Apparently, she had put up the most fight and, while being studied for repeated exposure to ectoplasm and radiation, started biting people.

The Fentons are big names in this conflict. Tim makes the executive decision to burn one of his out-of-state safehouses so they can hide and recover in peace, then promptly moves them into it as soon as the EMTs give them the all clear. They’re gone by the time the sun is rising over the horizon, and the curious Amity Parkers that have gathered behind the blockade of police cars have to be reassured that the Fentons have been taken away for their protection, not for further abuses. Even then, tensions are high and the locals are clearly prepared to start rioting now that they have a chance to fight back.

As vigilantes, they’re not meant to interact with cops much. Perhaps it’s simply their experiences in Gotham that keep them at a distance, disappearing into the neighborhood the moment attention shifts off of them. Either way, Duke is hurrying out of Amity Park with the rest of the team on his heels, eager to return to Gotham and follow up on their own leads to make sure the GIW is properly gutted and dismantled.

Duke heads off for the Hatch as soon as they reach Gotham, hoping to shed the suit and finally be able to call Danny. The guilt of not noticing how bad things had gotten rolls through his stomach, and more than that, he’s missed hearing Danny’s voice.

The first few calls go straight to voicemail. Duke leaves a quick message asking Danny to let him know how he’s doing as soon as he can talk.

Then he goes for a shower and to change into civilian clothes, prepared to make his way to Wayne Manor to let Bruce know how everything went. And hopefully distract him from his Disappointed Father/Leader Lecture about taking on missions behind his back, as if Duke can’t handle himself. And also because Bruce has no leg to stand on when it comes to this. He’s fully prepared to throw that entire lecture back into his face at a moment’s notice.

The post-mission exhaustion is hitting him hard and fast. Duke has to brace himself against the wall once he’s out of the shower, resisting the urge to just lie on the floor and sleep there until he starts feeling more human.

Somehow, he gets himself into some sweatpants and a plain shirt, pulls on a pair of mismatched socks, and begins gathering his things so he can get to the Batcave.

He’s in no state to be driving. Maybe someone would be willing to take him there?

Just as he reaches for his phone to thumb through his contacts and see who he can bother, it buzzes in his hand. Duke blames the way he jumps on his exhaustion, then blinks his tired eyes to squint at the name that pops up onto the screen.

Danny.

All at once, his exhaustion fades away. A rush of adrenaline runs through him as he scrambles to accept the call, already pacing around the room so he doesn’t fall asleep.

“Hello?”

There’s a moment of silence, then the exhale of a breath that turns to static over the call. “Duke,” Danny’s tired voice says. “Duke…”

“You doing okay? I couldn’t get to you before you and your family had to leave and go into hiding, but I’ve been worried about you, man.”

“I’m good. We’re all fine, now. Fentons are strong, you know? We’ll bounce back in no time.”

From what he’s heard about Danny’s family, that’s most definitely true. He’s seen the pictures of walls Jack Fenton has burst through with his body. It’ still hard to believe that no one in the family is a meta, outside of Danny.

“You need anything? I can get it to you, just say the word. Anything at all.”

Danny hums, then asks with a playful note in his voice, “Anything?”

“Anything.”

“I need you. How fast can you come meet me? I’ll even pay for express delivery.”

Duke laughs, so relieved at hearing the lightness return to Danny’s voice that he feels weak in the knees. “It’ll be at least two days. I gotta sleep and debrief with Batman before I can see you. It’s gonna take some time to get out of Gotham again.”

“Maybe I can go to you, instead,” Danny suggests. “Fly over and be there is less than an hour.”

“Are you in any shape to be flying right now?”

“I’m fine! Already healing and everything,” Danny insists.

“It might be dangerous if any rogue GIW agents go after you.”

“Well,” Danny says, “That’s why I need to get to my knight in shining armor sooner rather than later, right?”

Duke bites his lip to fight back a smile, blinking his eyes forcefully to keep them from closing under the heavy weight of exhaustion. “Does that make you a damsel in distress?”

“I mean, I did need rescuing, so I guess? I’m not much of a damsel, but I could put on a pretty dress for you. It’ll be like playing pretend when we were kids.”

“Oh, man, I kinda miss those poofy dresses. I think I could still rock on, put it on top of the armor when I go out for patrol.”

Danny snickers. “Signal: the most well dressed vigilante in Gotham.”

“That’s me, baby!”

The last of the agonizing fear that’s choked him since he first talked to Dash finally melts away. Danny’s fine now. Everything’s okay; the GIW are done for and there’s plenty of people willing to look out for the Fentons. This will never happen again.

“Hey,” Danny says, voice suddenly turing more serious. “Send me your location. I wasn’t joking when I said I could fly over to you. And before you say anything! I do need it; Jazz and my parents are smothering me and I just need to get away from everything and pretend all of this never happened.”

The admission softens Duke, makes him shove away everything that tells him this is a bad idea, that Danny needs more rest first, that having Danny fly over alone and without warning any of the Bats fills Duke with anxiety.

He does miss Danny. More than he can put into words.

“Yeah, okay,” he says at last. “Come meet me, Danny.”

He texts Danny the location of the Hatch before common sense tells him to be more careful with his base of operations. Not that it matters, anyways; if there’s anyone in the world he trusts with everything, it’s Danny.

Then he sends the Bats a quick text saying he’s crashing in the Hatch and to not bother him until the sun is fully up two days from now. Oracle gives him a thumbs up emoji, which is a good guarantee that she will personally see to it that no non-emergency messages interrupt his rest and recovery time.

Duke has no idea how long it will take Danny to get to the Hatch, so he putters around, cleaning up the space and straightening it out in an attempt to keep busy enough that he doesn’t crash. Travel really takes it out of him. It’s one of the cons of being born and raised in Gotham: he doesn’t have the stamina to travel outside of it, especially when they were there and back in less than three days.

Thank god for Tim’s many motorcycles and his tendency to see the speed limit as a weak suggestion that can be ignored while on a mission.

Ultimately, the call of sleep is too strong to resist.

One moment, Duke is sorting through files on the Hatch’s computer, and the next moment, he’s face down on a bed with his face shoved into a pillow.

Blearly, he manages to pull his phone out of his pocket and send Danny a typo-ridden text that hopefully gets across the message of might be asleep so just come in, don’t wait for me to answer the door.

He’s out like a light as soon as it sends. The last thing Duke registers is his phone dropping out of his hand and falling against the mattress with a little bounce.

When he begins to wake up, something’s changed. As much as he wants to go back to sleep, awareness comes back to him slowly and Duke forces himself to claw his way out of unconsciousness to figure out what, exactly, is bothering him so much. Until he figures out what’s changed in the room, he won’t be able to sleep because he’ll be worried about someone breaking in.

His mind comes back online long before his body does. It’s only when he tries to move that Duke realizes he’s no longer alone on the bed; there’s someone wrapped up in his arms, body temperature a little too cool to be a normal human.

Blinking open his eyes, Duke looks down at the head of messy black hair and feels Danny’s soft breath ghost across his chest.

“Danny?” he manages to say, voice rough with sleep.

Danny hums and doesn’t move.

“Hey, look up. Let me see if you’re really alright.”

“Mmm, no,” Danny mumbles, burrowing his face into Duke’s chest some more. “‘m sleepy.”

A good argument. Duke is also sleepy.

“Fine,” he says, “Check in the morning, then. G’night, Danny.”

“Night, Duke. Thanks for saving me.”

He tightens his grip on Danny, contentment burning warm in his chest. “Always, Danny. I’ll always save you.”

That’s why he’s a hero, after all. To save others, to reach a hand out to everyone the way he needed when he was younger. To keep the people he loves safe. To make sure Danny always finds a way back to him.

This is what makes all the pain of this lifestyle worth it.

Danny makes everything worth it.

(@yourlocalcorviddad tagging to make sure you see this!)

#ghostlights #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #prompt fill #my writing #i thought up a whole backstory to the duke/dash kiss (accidental. embarrassing for both parties) but it didnt fit w the rest of the fic so #its not included. i can include it in a rb if u want tho!!#my sleepy boys..... they go thru so much but at the end of the day they always feel at home with each other #childhood friends duke/danny is so important to me #also couldnt think of a coded phrase sorry. now we just have dash walking up to duke like HEY. HELP DANNY. and duke went with it #thanks for the prompt!!

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coredrill · 2 months

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“bang brave bang bravern” more like “what if your mecha partner boyfriend soulmate loved you so much it saved his life and yours, forwards and backwards into infinity. what if he adopted and played up the persona of a superhero because acting as your knight was the only way he felt like he could stand by your side. what if he believed in you so hard that belief persisted even after he died. TWICE!!! and what if all that love taught you how to be brave enough to save everyone - but most importantly him - in return.”

#what if we created an idealized super robot representative of bravery bc we loved each other so much. and we were both boys #sorry when i went to the post store they said i didn’t have enough braincells to pay for a new one #so we’re falling back on an old classic #bang brave bang bravern #a: bravern #bravern spoilers #t.bbbb #OKAY LAST POST. FOR NOW #sumiisa…………….#r: sumiisa

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backroadboy · 4 months

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dean's crow feet and dimples and cas' broad shoulders and tan skin <3

#them growing old together is my weakness #they both never thought this was something that would happen #and just idk man #people who've suffered so much still having a future together...we could've had it all #i am still so mad #also i need a good pic to add here!#ahhhh #i mean. s1 dean means so much to me because it's closer to where i am now #but later seasons dean my boy. i just wanna hug him &3 #*<3 #txt.

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mispelled · 6 months

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I know I'm not the only one who went insane about the hermie fact

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w1lmuttart · 23 days

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Found an old design I made of star boy back when everyone was rewriting the movie Wish lol

Went with both their true form, as well as a human form to blend in on earth. Anyway I like this guy so theyre mine now :)👍

#thought it’d be fun to use blues for the star colors rather than yellow #both to enhance the cosmic feel but to also create a contrast w the human appearance which is much warmer #blue stars are hotter than yellow stars right? so it feels fitting #I feel like this ver of star could very easily develop a wish on their own to be a fully actualized person on earth #rather than being a cosmic entity who can only passively interact w the wish makers #if we go w the idea that each person has an assigned wishing star then this could maybe be Aisha’s star #and she’s never made a wish til now and star boy has been growing restless #I thought it’d be cool if one of the villains was a star coming to earth as well. and the wish granting is to maintain their place on earth #then we could have parallels between our heroes and villains. the human wishing to keep their star w them #idk man. I’m trying to work w you movie #anyway rewrite lore is done for now lol #wish movie #……….although I’m stealing this design from it so uhhh #w1lmutt’s ocs

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egophiliac · 3 months

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So the final character turns out to be based on Ryugen, but it feels kinda weird how there is also one based on Zangetsu and they aren't brothers

Or what if plot reveals they are brothers and he was actually adopted or stollen

I CAN'T BELIEVE HE'S ACTUALLY RYUUGEN?! I made a joke about it when Toten got revealed but I didn't actually expect... (I'm counting it as a win though, which means I guessed three out of sixteen! ...given how wacky some of these got, I'm actually pretty proud of that.)

he seems very sweet though! I hope he and his secret hamsters are very happy together. 🐹

(also:

THIS WAS MY EXACT TRAIN OF THOUGHT TOO! either this is an incredible bit of meta foreshadowing, or an incredible bit of Takahashi trolling, and I -- I honestly don't know which is more likely)

#art #ride kamens #(sorry this is rougher than usual...the art is not cooperating today) (i still have so much i want to draw. sob.)#and so the final boy is revealed...#i appreciate that the grape dragon boy has purple dragonball hair. i accept this as meta commentary.#(also given how gung-ho 'thank you niisan :) i love you niisan :)' he is i am leaning towards a very dramatic mid-story twist) (moohaha >:)#i am liking the cast overall! some odd pulls but all good ones imo #i knew fourze wasn't gonna happen but i had kind of hoped for one or both of the hoppers...#ah well. if it does well they might start adding more characters #and my very specific dreams of anime riders with beautiful flowing locks of hair may continue to be realized #now we wait for launch i guess!#maybe we'll get another pv or something to tide us over in the meantime?#i'm interested in what the gameplay will actually be like #i hope we get to decorate our cafes! i want to have the cutest secret superhero base in all the land

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gatzbright · 9 months

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dream & george; falling in love

Dream: 'Have either of you talked about liking each other in the past?' George: *Scoffs* Dream: ... Well— George: *Giggles* Dream: Well, none of the answers fit. But I'd say, like, we've talked about 'whether' ... George: The weather? Dream: Yeah.

Dream: The realisation that, once again, I met someone that's not going to be my friend, but something more. They were never meant to be my friend in the first place. I can't avoid it. If I'm going to fall in love, I'm going to fall in love. So this song is a cry to please be gentle, please don't make me even more paranoid.

Dream: I want that part of my life to be private, you know? Regardless of who that person is ... Once the cameras are off, once we're not doing anything, it's our time. It's me and you. There's no one else. No one else exists in the world, regardless of the fact that there's thirty-million people that are looming over.

Dream: Because I'm famous and because I have all this attention on me—when I'm in my normal life it's like, I want to put the people in my life in the spotlight and make sure they feel that way. But then there's lyrics like 'the celebrity in my bed' and 'close the curtains now you're all mine' ... It's about, you know, that special someone in your life, and how in my mind, because I feel so special, I want them to feel that same specialness. So, yeah, it's about relationships and how I want that person to feel special like I do.

dream @/dreamwastaken: .@/GeorgeNotFound you've had such a big impact on my life I don't even know where to start. helping me code my videos sometimes, helping with random ideas within videos, encouraging me and always being the light in the room to make things even just a little bit brighter. you took a chance on me out of university, making thumbnails and coding for scraps because we wanted to make it big and I’m proud to say that we did it and I’ll have an appreciation for you for the rest of my life because of your friendship, kindness, and love you’ve shown me. love you man. idc if you’re never serious or if we joke around a lot, you have a place in my heart and I’m looking forward to finally meeting you and taking our next step in content creation and friendship. LOVE U

Dream: 'Spotlight' is a song I wrote about making that special someone in my life feel as special as they truly are ... I want to be there to support them through the ups and downs, and make them feel like they have a million fans screaming cheering them on, even if it's just my voice echoing a million times. They are the most important person in the world and the only one in that spotlight of love and admiration, and I want them to know that.

a lot of my future is your future

Head Over Heels / Broken, Tears for Fears | Dream and George retake 'Am I In Love With My Bestfriend' Quiz, DNF Discord Podcast | Head Over Heels / Broken, Tears for Fears | Dream Team House Cooking Stream, Awesamdude VOD | The Diaries of Franz Kafka, Franz Kafka | Paranoid, Dream | to whoever wants to hear – lyric booklet, Dream | Franz Kafka Letter, Franz Kafka | Red Doc>, Anne Carson | Photograph of Dream and George during the Foodbeast's Panel at Twitchcon San Diego, @/itsjusttai_ | Dream Team Christmas – Baking Cookies, Sapnap VOD | Paranoid, Dream | Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince, Taylor Swift | Dream's Snapchats of George, @/dream | Paris, Taylor Swift | Dream breaks down his new EP track by track, Associated Press | long story short, Taylor Swift | Dream and George on set: Everest – Dream & Yung Gravy BEHIND THE SCENES, Dream Music | Dream breaks down his new EP track by track, Associated Press | Spotlight, Dream | Technoblade Charity Stream George's POV, GeorgeNotFound VOD | Dream and George during Foodbeast's Kitchen League Battle Royale at Twitchcon San Diego, Twitch VOD | October Passed Me By, girl in red | Waiting for a Star to Fall, Boy Meets Girl | Dream Team Christmas – Gingerbread Houses, GeorgeNotFound VOD | dream Tweet, @/dreamwastaken | Dream Team Christmas – Baking Cookies, Sapnap VOD | "George napping and the sun is literally beaming him square in the face" – Photograph and Tweet, @/dreamwastaken | Paranoid, Dream | Dream and George on set: Everest – Dream & Yung Gravy BEHIND THE SCENES, Dream Music | to whoever wants to hear – lyric booklet, Dream | Dream Team House Cooking Stream, Awesamdude VOD | SOMEONE MADE A DISSTRACK ABOUT ME???, GeorgeNotFound VOD | Paranoid, Dream |

#whew !!!!! WHO ELSE IS FEELING CRAZY #memememmeememem #constant state of delirium and just utter hysteria like. dream wrote love songs about his george his boy his soulmate his best friendhis lo #both of whom we've been shipping n writing n reading fics n creating fanart for YEARS bc we could see it and. now its kinda beenhardlaunche #romance is not dead if u keep it just yours !!!!!!!!!!!!!#IM SO HAPPY FOR MY BABIES MY DNFIES ohmygod likeisferejrghrgeuoegrh #this took hours btw its now 9am and i had 1hour sleep ijust. don't know anymore this is dnfs fault #poured my blood sweat n tears into this load of crazy TRUTH. time to write dnf fic now o7 #compilations #web weaving #dnf #my dnfies #dreamnotfound #dreamie #georgie #love #timeless #tin can #my webs

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flowercrowngods · 2 years

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in which they lie on the floor and take care of each other, falling in love somewhere along the way between music and silence

🤍 also on ao3

When Eddie makes it to Steve’s a few hours after the others because he sort of got lost in that song he was working on and completely lost track of time when the words finally cooperated with him and the chords, he is not surprised to hear the sound of laughter and chaotic conversation, accompanied with the upbeat pop music Steve likes so much. What does surprise him, though, is the picture presented to him once he reaches the spacious living room.

The group is sitting in a circle on the luxurious sofa and on the plush carpet, talking and laughing and throwing the occasional pillow. So far so normal. What’s decidedly not normal is the fact that Steve is lying a bit away from the group, still included in their circle from the way they’re sitting, and he is absolutely still.

Eddie’s first instinct is to panic because surely Steve is having a flashback, an episode of some sort, maybe he’s been possessed, maybe he—

No. No, the others wouldn’t let that happen, wouldn’t let him lie there like that if it were at all concerning. Eddie tries to calm himself, to breathe away the panic and just be fucking normal.

He catches Dustin watching him and clears his throat, willing an easy expression as he asks, “Hey, uh. What’s up with Harrington?”

“Oh, he’s having floor time,” is what Dustin tells him like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world. Like Eddie is supposed to know what that means.

Except, he does. Sort of.

And now that the panic is gone and he looks closer at Steve, he sees that his eyes are open but not unseeing as he is staring at the ceiling. He looks calm. That crease between his brows his gone and everything about him seems relaxed.

Floor time.

Of all the things Eddie could have imagined learning about Steve fucking Harrington, nail bat swinging national hero and hair care extraordinaire, this wouldn’t even have made the list.

And so, with a careful eye still on the boy starfishing on the white carpet, Eddie goes to sit down beside Dustin.

“So. Floor time, huh?”

The boy gives him a sideways glance and nods. “Yeah, it’s sacred. We used to do that at my place all time, it’s strangely calming. It’s kind of our thing.” And he says that with such pride in his voice, stage whispering like he is letting Eddie in on this huge secret, he can’t even find it in him to tap into that jealousy that always used to accompany every mention of Steve Harrington coming out of Henderson’s mouth.

Eddie bumps their shoulders together gently and promptly joins in on the discussion over whether or not it was boring to choose the human race in Dungeons and Dragons, which then turns into explaining to Jonathan why a paladin and a wizard are not the same, until everything derails completely and there are five discussions at the same time and Eddie is having a wonderful time keeping up with all of them.

All the while, though, he lets his eyes wander back to Steve. To the steady rise and fall of his chest, to his hands where they are still relaxed and twitching, not clenched, knuckles white, bracing to fight for his life.

He does feel oddly protective over the boy who usually does all the protecting, at least in that moment. Part of him wants to cross the distance and lie down beside him. Not to talk, not to touch, just to be there. Just so Steve doesn’t have to be alone.

It’s stupid. Steve’s not alone. He has a house full of his closest friends who let him lie on the floor and don’t ask for his attention until Robin grabs the phone to order some pizza. When Steve is back, he looks… Well, he looks good. He always does, sure, but this time he also looks like he feels good. And Eddie stares a bit before Will and Lucas vie for his attention again.

It does indeed become a Thing, like Dustin told him, because the next few times they’re meeting – sometimes at the Byers’, sometimes at the Wheeler’s, but mostly at Steve’s – Eddie will find him lying on the floor at some point of the evening. Not always quiet and zoned out, sometimes he’s actively participating in whatever conversation is the loudest, sometimes he’s watching with a smile on his lips.

Eddie has stopped watching him. Or at least that’s what he’s trying to tell himself. But Steve is okay, it’s his Thing, there is no need to worry, no need to watch. Even when sometimes Steve needs several tries at finding his words again, Eddie has stopped worrying.

It’s a Steve Thing. And it’s really fucking endearing.

He tries not to watch.

But then one day, after a really rough week and one too many threats directed at him, Eddie just… Doesn’t feel like talking. But he doesn’t feel like being alone, either, his hands still slightly shaking from running into Tommy H and his goons that seem to have missed the memo that high school is over and they can start behaving like adults now.

And so he finds himself standing in front of Harrington’s house, bracing himself for the noise, the questions, the demands, the stories, for all the words he really doesn’t want to say today. It takes him another five minutes to ring the bell.

Robin lets him in, and Eddie feels overwhelmed already, but it’s too late to turn around now, so he swallows and heads inside. His heart sinks further when he finds Steve walking around, joking, chiding. Chasing after El when she steals a cinnamon roll that just came out of the oven. Eddie’s heart sinks and it flutters at the same time, and it is that sensation that makes him crumble.

He lies down on the living room floor and hopes that it’s enough, that he won’t have to explain, that he can just… exist.

The noise around him doesn’t stop, but he finds that he doesn’t need it to, because they leave him alone, don’t try to talk to him, give him time to breathe, to gather himself, to be okay. The world fades a bit, but it doesn’t turn upside down.

Floor time is sacred. And he’s starting to understand why. There’s something oddly calming about feeling the hard floor beneath him, about watching everyone from this angle, about staring at the ceiling with no thoughts in his mind.

And he understands why Steve does this so often. Where his hands have been shaking just moments prior, they are calm now. Where his mind revolved around the Upside Down and Tommy H and run, run, run, now they are quiet. Dulled. Like they can’t rech him, like he is safe here. On the floor.

The only thought that comes to him is that everything would be even better with a weight on his body. And for a moment, he imagines Steve lying down on top of him, to ground him some more. Or Nancy or Robin or Jonathan. Hell, even Eleven would do. Maybe one day. It’s about time they implement cuddle piles into their weekly routine, but Eddie doesn’t feel like opening his mouth and asking for that right about now.

He zones out. Lets the magic of the Sacred Floor wash over him and thinks how that would actually make a fine addition to his campaign. Maybe another riddle for Dustin to decipher.

By the time he hears the music, he feels like a completely new person and it takes him a while for the fog to life enough, but then—No way. His eyes widen and immediately find Steve’s where he’s leaning against the doorway to his right with a gentle, knowing smile on his lips.

“It’s always better with music,” he says, almost sheepish, like he’s worried he maybe crossed a line. “Hot chocolate is coming up right away. Leave it if you don’t want it, Dustin will also drink it cold.” Definitely a smile now, fond this time as Steve’s eyes wander to where Eddie assumes he can find Dustin.

He doesn’t look away from Steve, the expression on his face probably still somewhere between disbelief and wonder. And he’s staring. He knows, because Steve gives him that sheepish smile again and starts to speak after a moment.

“I hope Twisted Sister is okay? I actually quite like this album, but I can go see if I can grab something from that Sabbath band you were talking about, or… Metallica? Something like that. Sorry, uhm. Metal is not really my strong suit, as you may have noticed.” He laughs almost nervously and Eddie just melts.

Steve, worried about his music choice for Eddie’s floor time, which he is absolutely ready and willing to go out of his way for as it seems, laughing and rubbing the back of his neck as We’re Not Gonna Take It starts playing is not what Eddie expected of his day when he woke up this morning.

He might actually have a little crush on the Harrington boy, he realises in that moment, as he smiles up at Steve in a way he hopes is reassuring. It’s perfect, he thinks. Like your stupid hair and your nervous little smile.

Steve seems to understand as he answers with another smile of his own, though all traces of nervousness or worry are gone now, replaced with patience and kindness and understanding. It’s almost too much for Eddie to bear and he looks away.

Moments later, Steve reappears in his line of sight and places a mug of hot chocolate well within his reach but still safe from overly energised teenagers.

Eddie is hesitant about it, but in the end it’s the best hot chocolate he has ever had, not even ruined by the smug grin on Steve’s face that said something along the lines of, ‘I have been babysitting this bunch of teenagers for three years now. I know how to make damn fine hot chocolate and you cannot deny it.’

Eddie just shakes his head in dramatic exasperation and hides his smile in his mug.

Eddie tries not to think too hard about his little crush on Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. It’s probably nothing but a trauma-related attachment anyway, just like he has with all the kids, with Robin and Nancy and Jonathan. It’s nothing. It’s stupid.

But then one night there’s a thunderstorm rolling over Hawkins and everyone’s probably having a shit night, but Eddie? Oh, Eddie is a mess. Every noise is a bat ripping into his flesh, every time he wants to open his mouth he feels like he’s choking on his own blood. He can’t breathe, can’t drink, can’t eat, can’t stop fucking shaking. Pulling his hair has stopped working a while ago, and he wants nothing more than to go over to Steve’s stupid big house and feel safe again.

Before he knows it, he’s in his van waiting in front of Steve’s house, the lights still on, always on, holding his walkie talkie in shaking hands.

“Hey Stevie?” he finally begins, just as a particularly loud crash of thunder makes him gasp, but he bites his lip desperately and braves on. “You there?”

The answer is immediate and it makes Eddie breathe a sigh of relief. “Eds? Yeah, I’m here. Are you okay?”

It’s past 1:30am, but neither of them are surprised that the other is still awake.

“Yeah,” Eddie laughs, but it’s too shaky to be anything but pathetic. “Sure am. Was just… thinking, y’know.”

A silence follows and Eddie cringes at himself, at his words, at his presence. Why did he think it was a good idea to come over here again without so much as a plan? Oh right, he didn’t think. At all. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Hey, listen, man, do you wanna come over? I mean… Is Wayne home? Stupid thunder, right? I’m… I’m here if you wanna talk, yeah?”

“I don’t wanna talk,” is all Eddie says, his eyes clenched shut as another bolt of lightning lights up the night sky and he counts twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, until he hears that dreadful thunder rolling above.

No, he doesn’t want to talk. What he wants is to just not be alone. To be in the same room, lie on the same floor and share the same air as Steve. The thought of talking while thunder is rolling above them makes his skin crawl, and he deosn’t want to talk, doesn’t want to speak, just wants to— Steve.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay, right? Eds? Hang on, is that—Oh Eddie.” Steve sighs, but it’s not exasperated, not annoyed, not angry. It’s fond. Kind. Patient. And Eddie wants to cry.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he just looks at the curtain moving behind the window before Steve spots his van. Eddie lifts his hand and just says, “Surprise?”

And then there’s a bit of static on the other end of the line before Eddie is only met with silence. The sudden moment of complete silence is a stark contrast to, well, everything, and Eddie panics for a moment. But then he sees the front door opening, Steve illuminated by the lights he always keeps on. He looks like an angel, even through the curtain of constant drizzle between them. Eddie’s treacherous insides melt some more when he sees that Steve is coming over with an umbrella in his hand. When he opens the driver’s door with that gentle little smile on his lips and simply offers his arm to Eddie in a gesture so chivalrous that the metalhead cracks a laugh and considers swooning for all but one second before he realizes that his laugh sounded more like a sob of relief.

Gods, but he is a mess.

Whether that is because of the thunderstorm that seems to creep closer and closer, or because he has just compared Stevie to an angel, and now here he is treating him like a gentleman, at ass o’clock, with a look in his eyes like there’s nowhere he would rather be, well. That’s between Eddie and his stupid heart.

Steve leads them inside, shutting and locking the door like he always does before turning back to Eddie. He takes one look at him, enough for Eddie to want to apologise for dropping in like this, but he can’t get the words out before Steve’s already asking, “Metallica or Motörhead?”

And Eddie wants to cry again. Because maybe Steve knows. Maybe he understands.

“Metallica,” he rasps and Steve nods. Smiles. Turns around to head into the kitchen and leaves Eddie where he is, allowing him to follow along or to find his own way, trusting him with that big empty house.

That’s when Eddie realises that he’s never been alone with Steve. Not here, at least. And he kind of wishes that he had come over in a better state, not quite this much of a wreck. But then he wouldn’t have gotten to see the kindness, the patience, the ‘We’re all fucked up here but you’re family so let me take care of you, dammit’-look that Dustin had to suitably dubbed.

Standing in the entry hall, feeling a bit lost and small, Eddie realises that he wants to follow Steve into the kitchen. Wants to stay close, touch him, drape himself over his back and just exist there, in silence and mutual understanding. He doesn’t. But it takes great physical effort to go find his way into the living room instead, sitting down in the white carpet where he had first seen Steve lying on the floor all those weeks ago. He breathes easier now as he runs his hand over the soft, plushy texture and finds himself unwilling to stop. He’s always had a knack for sensory stuff, and touch was by far the most intense, so he splays his palm over the carpet and moves his hands back and forth.

Then the music starts playing and it’s the rather slow first notes of “Fight Fire With Fire” that make Eddie look away from the white plush and back up at Steve, who is standing and watching with a barely-there smile.

The music isn’t very loud, just enough to create a comfortable atmosphere and drown out the rolling thunder. Just for him.

His heart is doing the traitorous shit again where it thinks it’s only beating for Steve Harrington in that moment. He doesn’t have the strength or the will to stop it, though.

And Steve, angel that he is, looking down at him in the dim, warm living room light, puts the two mugs of steaming hot chocolate on the coffee table beside Eddie before promptly sitting down beside him. He meets Eddie’s eyes with all that patience, all that compassion that it gets kind of heavy after a while.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Steve murmurs, barely audible over the music, and Eddie just shakes his head. There’s nothing to talk about, just stupid thunder and lightning making his brain feel like it’s being fried and splintering.

“Alright,” Steve whispers and falls back, lying down beside Eddie, who doesn’t have it in him to follow quite yet. His eyes sting. He will not cry in front of Steve fucking Harrington! But then there’s a hand brushing lightly over his back and his voice, so impossibly gentle, telling him, “C’m here, Eds.”

And who is he to deny, to resist, to refuse Steve ‘Kind Eyes’ Harrington?

Eddie slowly lets himself fall backwards, and they just lie there for a while. Not touching, not talking, not moving.

But this time, Eddie’s mind isn’t quiet, because Steve, Steve, Stevie is so close. So gentle. He’s there, he’s here, he understands, and he doesn’t judge. Doesn’t talk. Doesn’t question. How can his mind be quiet when Steve is perfect?

How can his mind be quiet when his heart is racing as he slowly, achingly slowly like they do in the stupid movies Nancy loves to watch, moves his hand closer to Steve’s. He’s powerless against the pull of the boy beside him. His heart is beating in his throat when Steve meets his hand halfway, wrapping his pointer finger around Eddie’s pinkie. Their feet find their way to each other, just resting there, basking in each other’s warmth.

He is weak when his head lands on Steve’s shoulder. His eyes close and he breathes — quietly, shallowly, for fear of breaking the moment.

He doesn’t break it. In fact, the moment lasts far longer than the record Steve had put on – because of course he had to play a Metallica record instead of a cassette like normal people would –, and then it is quiet. The soft lights fill the room with warm, indirect safety and finally help his mind quiet down.

Of course, the realisation that he’s maybe a little bit in love with Steve Harrington had to be a quiet one. Soft, gentle, kind, and definitely far from what he ever would have expected. Just like Steve himself.

Of course, where everything else in Eddie’s life was loud — from his music to his kids to the thoughts in his head when he can’t sleep at night —, this one had to be different. Quiet. And when Steve begins to draw patterns into his back where Eddie is now essentially lying on top of him, Eddie dares once more to reach for Steve’s unoccupied hand, tangling their fingers. Not to hold him, because Steve isn’t going anywhere, but simply to touch.

Steve understands, Eddie realises, because he brushes his lips over his temple and then leaves them there. Not to kiss, not really, but simply to touch.

And while Eddie’s heart is busy feeling like it’s going to burst from these sudden realisations, from how quiet and how safe he feels, from how utterly, indescribably right this feels, Eddie just closes his eyes and accepts the fact that he is actually, absolutely, irrefutably and completely in love with Steve ‘Floor Time’ Harrington.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #god this turned out way too long I apologise I seriously just wanted Steve lying on the floor and now here we are #in this house we take care of both our boys. by making them neurodivergent and nonverbal lmaoo #in true fashion I am resuming my streak at nonverbalising my blorbos #dio words #if you know me?? quiet cuddles in the dark is where it's at 😔

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daydreamalley · 3 months

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The fact that there’s only one time in Chuuya’s life that Corruption was activated (outside of the lab) where Dazai wasn’t there in the aftermath and that was when Chuuya was just 7 years old and left in the crater of the explosion he created, in so much pain and with gravity probably still fluctuating around him. Nothing but complete destruction, hell on earth, and suffering for a seven-year-old child.

Chuuya is never in good shape after he uses Corruption, and I imagine he wasn’t in good shape after he used the full force of Arahabaki (and by used I mean when it was forced out of him due to Rimbaud). And like, we’ve seen Chuuya close Verlaine’s gate when he defeated the Beast of Guivre, and it left Verlaine close to death (though I also imagine that’s in part due to the fact Verlaine isn’t really human), and we also saw earlier on in Storm Bringer when Verlaine opened Corruption for only a second and then closed the gate that Chuuya was in agony, left to suffer in the hell of what was left of the street he’d been on.

That scene of Chuuya lying on the ground in what used to be an alleyway in excruciating pain is already hard to read, and he’s 16 then (still so young) but at least Dazai still comes (even though he doesn’t technically have to) and nullifies the aftershocks of Chuuya’s ability that are causing him so much pain. Causing him to suffer.

But imagine Chuuya at 7 years old, imagine how small that is, probably in nothing more than a hospital gown, lying in the rubble of the giant crater that will one day become Suribachi city, experiencing all that suffering and probably more. He’s completely alone in the hell of his own ability’s destruction, in unimaginable pain. His frail body that’s been in a lab for so long probably spasming with the pain as he feels the sun for the first time in who knows how long. And there was no one to hold him or catch him or for him to fall into. No one’s lap to rest his head on. No one to hoist him onto their shoulders and carry him away from the carnage. No one to nullify the pain he was in. No one to comfort him or remind him who he was.

What did he probably have to do when he woke up? Wait until he had enough strength to sit up, wait until the dizziness abated enough for him to stand, and through the disorientation walk on his own two feet despite the pain. He’d been through plenty of it after all, even if he couldn’t remember why, his body remembered.

He’d have to piece together any scraps of memory he had. His name probably came first. Then the horrific feeling of the power inside him and that he was probably responsible for the hellscape he was trying to navigate, cutting and scraping his bare feet in the crater of what was.

Find the corpse of some military personnel that’d been killed in the explosion Arahabaki had caused, far enough away he hadn’t been completely obliterated, and at least steal some of his uniform to wear, though it was much too big for his skinny 7-year-old frame. And the shoes wouldn’t do him any good, they’d just fall off, the jacket already kept slipping off his shoulder.

And then, in that moment, he was perhaps the loneliest person in the world. Not later, when he was 16 and had someone to catch him and someone had just attempted to sacrifice himself for Chuuya. No, then he had a semblance of a family. But when he was 7, that was when he was just alone, and in pain, with no one to reassure him that everything was alright, that nothing was his fault. That his destructive power didn’t make him less human. If anything, he was probably lucky no one with bad intentions found him.

And then who knows how long later, he’d wandered far enough away from the wreckage, under a bridge where a couple of other kids around his age found him. Still without shoes and in a military uniform far too large for him. Filthy and starving, but having the strength, having the courage to ask a kid “what’s that square thing?” “Tell me what that square thing is in your hand. Right now.” Last ditch effort of demanding, because somehow he still had a strong will. And the kid was just holding a slice of bread. Chuuya just wanted to know if he could eat it.

Like, can we just talk about the tragedy of that? How truly sad it is that when Chuuya asked “what’s that square thing” and the answer was just bread. Shirase just explaining“I was holding a slice of bread,” and then having to show him that it was edible. Like, my god. And then Chuuya just… faints, on the spot “like he was out of batteries,” as Shirase describes. Finally all his energy and willpower to survive depleted in this moment of hopeful safety. Shirase also says Chuuya looked half dead he was so skinny.

But at least Chuuya had finally found some people who’d given him some food and water. At least Shirase decided to take him to some shelter, even if it was in the sewers. He finally had people, even if they weren’t well off, they had something. Finally he wasn’t alone. And when he learned he had something to offer them in return in the form of his ability? Well, of course he was going to use it to help them.

Also, just, his first memory was of being alone and in pain. Where he is now may not be perfect, but thank god he’s come such a long way and has people and a home and food and luxuries. But like, he just has to live with that every day.

Oh, and mind you, all this was happening to Chuuya close to the end/in the aftermath of the war, which was already a bad time for people, as Murase talks about. He says “But it was the end of the war, and there were supply shortages everywhere you went. Some kids from the Settlement appeared out of nowhere and tried to sneak inside to steal some food.” So on top of Chuuya’s personal struggles, there were shortages of supplies everywhere, bad enough that kids were trying to sneak into military facilities for food.

So, yeah, this actually massively got away from me, into the territory of hcs and back out again. But like, every time we see Chuuya use Corruption Dazai is around, because he really has to be. And I love that. But just thinking about the one time where Dazai wasn’t around after the full effects of Chuuya’s ability and how that was probably the worst time and Chuuya was only 7 and alone and woke up in the middle of essentially hell on earth with like no memories. It makes me want to scream, and that’s why I wrote this. And then I reread the part in SB where Shirase explains how he met Chuuya and just got even sadder. Fun times fun times.

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