#biology personification

[tomassci]

The Symbiotes is a group of personified biological kingdoms. Archie (Archaea) - The Scout (the reddish one) "Think about it. I'm sure you don't want to waste your powers on me, do you?" Power: Extremophilia Archie is able to survive in the hardest environments, including temperature, pressure and chemical extremes. Fun facts: Archie is the calmest member of the Symbiotes, she wouldn't hurt a fly. She also likes to help others.

Bactrodia (Bacteria) - The Alchemist (the purplish one) "Omnia ex spiritum animae." Power: Synthesis Bactrodia is able to create about any chemical she wishes to. Fun facts: Bactrodia is interested in the occult, mainly necromancy.

Patrick (Protista) - The Spy (the blue one) "You might be surprised, but I absolutely got inside." Power: Amoeboid Locomotion Patrick has an extremely flexible body, allowing him to fit through the tiniest hole. Fun facts: He has a see-through body, allowing others to see his meals. Patrick doesn't mind.

Plantagenet (Plantae) - The Support (the tree one) "Don't worry, I'm here with you." Power:Plant Imitation Plantagenet is able to not only physiologically imitate any plant, but also change size to be a support for transportation of other Symbiotes. She's also able to grow and move quicker than any plant would be able to. Fun facts: She's able to heal people physically and emotionally.

Animer (Animalia) - The Fighter (the whatever flying one) "You can't defeat me in any form of mine." Power: Formshift Animer is a shapeshifter, allowing him to get the abilities of multiple animals, even at once. Fun facts: He's the biggest eater of this group, requiring the most in terms of food each day.

Phuni (Fungi) - The Communicator (the brown one) "It was never about just sending a message." Power: Mycellium Communication Phunia is able to voluntarily extend their mycelium and use that to enable distance communication. Fun facts: Even though Phuni takes a liking in old things, they dislike Bactrodia's occultism.

Panvir (Viruses) - The Control (the robot one) "PLEASE-STOP-DOING-THAT-RIGHT-NOW." Power: Nucleic Command Panvir can voluntarily mind-control others. He uses this for pranks or to keep the other Symbiotes fighting for good.

Fun facts: Panvir is seen by the wider society controversially, producing debates on whether he should have rights.

_________________________________________

Feel free to redraw and adapt.

[historia-vitae-magistras]

Hi! Do you happen to still have your headcanons about death? It was one of my favorite posts of yours. Thank you!

I don't have the post but this is a headcanon I think about a lot. I have two versions. The hard reset reboot and the soft reboot. The hard reboot is where the fantasy parts of my universe kick in and the soft reboot is something very much based in reality and biology.

Hard reboot:

This is only possible with the complete destruction of a body. Think getting ground to paste by the force of a glacier or going so far down in a ship wreck the pressure atomizes the body or getting turned into pink mist by artillery. Either the body is completely destroyed or otherwise the damage is unsurvivable. A beheading or certain kinds of spinal injuries for example are impossible to survive under any circumstances. This results in a whole molecular reset. Whatever was now ceases to exist entirely. No remains in the ground, no spare parts. Nothing left but the blood spatters and the echoing scream They are completely remade in a very mysterious process no one quite understands. And the results can be extremely dramatic when they reappear. They may be lacking scars they've had forever or they may reappear later on. Limbs may or may not regrow. Arthur may have lost the Danelaw scar for awhile and it may have popped up again later. Matt might lose some of the scars from the WW1 shrapnel eventually. While I do think that nation's have some built in abilities to cope just being what they are and a lot of trauma fades over time, trauma reactions can be variable and uneven. So while they may reboot and reset, it's still very circumstantial. They might feel better or different afterwards but it's still incredibly disconcerting.

Soft reboot:

The other type I call the 'soft reboot' or the biologically possible one, auto-resuscitation also sometimes called Lazarus syndrome. About half of doctors report seeing a case with their own eyes but data is still quite hard to come by. For most people that it happens too it shows up in their medical records vaguely and the difference between reversed clinical death and auto-resuscitation is not entirely clear to physicians, nurses or patients. But one possible theory is that it is the heart being restarted by pressure of some sort exerted onto the cavities in the chest. This doesn't have a reset. I am not dying today. It's fucking painful. I am not dying today. Coming back is terrifying. One moment the world is dark and cool and the terror of he medical environment is fading and any thoughts echo limply. Life and person hood trickles away but scrambling for a grip, something rolling into a void desperate for traction. No life flashing before the eyes. But Death is there. A sun bleached skeleton, the dried and decaying flowers of a funeral crowning an eyeless skull. Death offer's a hand and the falling is over. I am not dying today.

And then it does go black for a long time but then... life. The bones are a different temperature from the flesh. Every muscle has been strained every fucking direction. Half the ribs are broken because doctor's might have called it. The eyeballs aren't quite in the head right. A death has been declared, paperwork half filled out but the sun is rising, death kisses a bruised, warming cheek and asks, wryly.

"𝑨𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏?"

There's no magic reboot. The guts are bit rotted from sitting in a corpse for a night. There's a little brain damage but not as nearly as much as there should be. The joints are swollen, every vein in the face and neck and legs are pulling through muscle and flesh like cords through clay, held only inside by skin. Everything that was wrong is still wrong, and a little worse. But the sun is up. The sun is up and the heart still beats and the rest will heal. It has no choice but to heal. Because there is a heartbeat and breathe and the rest can wait.

[jrueships]

send me a player and ill look up and talk abt their lunar zodiac!!!

[ossifer]

On the Mechanics of Lyctorhood

I want to preface this by saying this is a long, long post that is going to delve deep into lyctorhood, skim the surface of physics and biology, and fully embrace conjecture! If I'm right about all this then I'm very happy, but I also cannot wait to be disproven in Alecto the Ninth.

Thanergy

Thanergy is the product of the decay of thalergy: this is the principle that underpins all of necromancy. All necromantic adepts are capable of manipulating both thalergy and thanergy, but necromancy is shown to be reliant on thanergy specifically, and is most geared toward utilising thanergy as a result.

“Thalergetic decay causes cellular death,” you said carefully, pressing the nail in harder, “which emits thanergy. The massive cell death that follows apopneumatism causes a thanergetic cascade, though the first bloom fades and the thanergy stabilises within thirty to sixty seconds.” [Harrow the Ninth]

As shown by @pokkop15 in this post the term thanergy is almost certainly derived from Thanatos, the Greek God of Death, but thalergy's origins are more murky: likely candidates are thaleros (a greek word that means lively), Thalia (the muse of Festivity whose name also means blooming), or Thalassa (divine personification of the sea in greek mythology, which would fit considering how life is very associated with saltwater in TLT).

The Eightfold Word: What is Lyctorhood?

According to the resident tall glass of skank and questionably reliable narrator, Ianthe Tridentarius, the Eightfold Word is composed of the following steps:

Preserve the soul, with memory and intellect intact.

Analyse it—understand its structure, its shape.

Remove and absorb it: take it into yourself without consuming it in the process.

Fix it in place so it can’t deteriorate.

Incorporate it: find a way to make the soul part of yourself without being overwhelmed.

Consume the flesh [NOTE: Ianthe says 'a drop of blood is enough to ground you', which to me indicates that this step serves as a way to ground the incorporated soul into the lyctor's body, by having material from the soul's original body. This is very significant.]

Reconstruction—making spirit and flesh work together the way they used to, in the new body.

Hook up the cables and get the power flowing.

Lyctorhood seemingly works by providing the necromancer with, among other things, a near limitless reserve of thanergy that is presumably derived from the incorporated soul once the power is flowing: as we see with Cytherea healing herself, lyctors are either unable to generate thalergy—or their ability to do so is lessened in comparison to their ability to generate thanergy—and must instead siphon it from external sources when their own thalergy is depleted.

In Nona the Ninth we are introduced to Palamedes' conception of Lyctorhood in terms of Lysis: the Lyctorhood we are most familiar with is Petty Lysis, where only one of the components dies, while Grand Lysis is a mutual death—a gravitational singularity creating something new, as is the case with Paul. Lysis is a term used in biology that refers to 'the breaking down of the membrane of a cell', which as I've explored before

In the series, Lyctorhood is spoken of in terms of fire: there are repeated references to Gideon's soul being made the furnace of [Harrow's] Lyctorhood and serving as a furnace of power, Mercymorn refers to her cavalier's mortal soul burning in her chest, John says that the risk posed by fully incorporating Alecto into himself completely would be that he'd probably burn to death, and Paul's birth results in Camilla's body being consumed by flames. This leads us on to how lyctorhood is also characterised as consumption: eating the cavalier, absorbing their soul, burning it for fuel.

What is the mechanism behind the thanergetic generation of lyctorhood?

Lyctorhood is barbaric, it is cannibalism, it is taking another and burning them in yourself for power. But that raises the question of where that power comes from. By the way that thalergy/thanergy are spoken of with terms reminiscent of radiation, coupled with how lyctorhood is rendered through metaphors and imagery related to fire and/or consumption, it would seem that the logical conclusion behind this is that the soul is being subject to continual thanergetic fission.

The terminology Tamsyn uses is something that lends credence to this: nuclear fission 'occurs when a neutron slams into a larger atom, forcing it to excite and split into two smaller atoms—also known as fission products'. Sudden, sharp decay/conversion of thalergy into thanergy could be the mechanism behind thanergetic fission, as we see with Harrow's description of apopneumatic shock and how the burst of thanergetic energy (a neutron slamming into a larger atom, forcing it to excite) is sufficient to prevent liminal osmosis from taking place: "In cases of apopneumatic shock, where death is sudden and violent, the energy burst can be sufficient to countermand osmotic pressure and leave the soul temporarily isolated."

But from what we know of the nature of the thanergy, thalergy, and the soul, this explanation makes no sense. Thanergy is emitted by thalergy decay, but souls in of themselves are not a source of thalergy nor thanergy, as shown by Anastasia's tripod principle: “The body needs thalergy and a soul to keep the lights on. Anastasia’s tripod principle. Body plus thalergy, but no soul, is basically a very weird vegetable … after a while it gives up and shuts down.” [Nona the Ninth]

Going back to the nuclear terminology, I'm going to cut straight to the core of this theory: the mechanism behind the thanergetic generation of lyctorhood is thanergetic fusion.

What is thanergetic fusion?

The term I use here is a misnomer, because a more accurate term would be pneumatic fusion, considering how Tamsyn Muir is fond of using the Greek pneuma to refer to the soul: nuclear fusion 'is a reaction in which two or more atomic nuclei combine to form one or more different atomic nuclei and subatomic particles'.

A nucleus in physics is 'the positively charged central core of an atom, consisting of protons and neutrons and containing nearly all its mass', while in biology the term refers to 'a dense organelle present in most eukaryotic cells, typically a single rounded structure bounded by a double membrane, containing the genetic material'. Palamedes uses the term lysis for Lyctorhood, which as you'll recall refers to the disintegration of the cell membrane, thus exposing it's innards: such as the nucleus. The soul is the nucleus.

Nuclear fusion involves combining two or more atomic nuclei to form one or more different atomic nuclei and subatomic particles: the difference in mass between the reactants and products is manifested as either the release or absorption of energy; as a rule of thumb the fusion of lighter nuclei releases energy, making it an exothermic process, while the fusion of heavier nuclei results in energy being retained by the product nucleons, and thus the resulting reaction is endothermic. An exothermic reactions releases heat, causing the temperature of the immediate surroundings to rise, while an endothermic one absorbs heat and cools the surroundings.

In the context of this nuclear fusion explanation of Lyctorhood, an exothermic (exothanergetic) reaction releases thanergy while an endothermic (endothanergetic) reaction absorbs thanergy: the fusion of lighter souls release thanergy, the fusion of heavier souls absorbs it.

What are the implications behind these mechanics?

The question that comes to mind is what is a heavier soul? The answer, once again, lies in physics: "The heaviest atomic nuclei are created in nuclear reactions that combine two other nuclei of unequal size into one; roughly, the more unequal the two nuclei in terms of mass, the greater the possibility that the two react." [Wikipedia]

How does John explain the soul of a planet to Harrow?

John: “And what has a soul?” Harrow: “Anything with a thalergetic complexity significant enough to … have a soul. So, humanity.” [...] Harrow: “A planet’s a ball of dust. Its thalergy comes from the accumulation of microbial life. You can’t consider it one coherent system.” John: “Call it a communal soul. What’s a human being, other than a sack of microbial life?

Planets' souls are communal, formed from the thalergetic complexity of an entire world coalescing into a nuclei that lies at its heart, heavy in a way a human soul is not: a human soul is light, a planet's soul is heavy. In other words, Alecto is a heavy nuclei and John is a light nuclei, with the resultant nuclei of their combination forming something heavier than either: an endothanergetic reaction.

Moving back to thanergetic fission and the apopneumatic shock of a violent death, we can now examine what happens when John becomes God:

He becomes aware of Alecto when Cristabel kills herself in front of him.

Now aware of Alecto, he creates a massive flood of thanergy by inciting the violent deaths of millions, possibly billions, through the detonation of nuclear devices.

Empowered by the mass thanergetic fission caused by an untold number of apopneumatic shocks, 'I became a demigod', he finishes off the rest.

He kills Alecto, takes her soul in his hands, and attempts to become one with her.

He almost fails, and during this flawed process is forced to split her soul between his body and another, hiding himself in her and herself in him.

Fusion still occurs, this reaction is endothanergetic and allows him to near absorb a massive amount of thanergy in one sitting: "And when we were together … once the shaman had claimed the sun … I became God."

He violently kills the rest of the planets in the system, flipping them and creating a surplus of thanergy, a process of large-scale energy creation and transferall: to quote Ianthe once again, "You see, my field has always been energy transferral … large-scale energy transferral. Resurrection theory."

What this all means is that the secret behind the Resurrection is that John's Lyctorhood works fundamentally differently to that of his Saints, because his is endothanergetic where theirs is exothanergetic, a reaction between a heavy and a lighter nuclei.

Not only is it endothanergetic instead of exothanergetic, it generates a different form of energy. Emperor John Gaius produces thalergy.

Resurrection Theory

As we know from Anastasia's tripod principle, thalergy alone cannot make life, a soul is also needed—meaning that the inverse is true, in that a soul alone cannot make life, thalergy is needed; In order for John to have performed the Resurrection, he would have needed to imbue bodies with both their soul and thalergy to recreate the life he took in the first place. Logically, this means that John would have to be able to create thalergy. John is the only being in the universe who is able to generate thalergy, namely via the continual fusion reaction between a heavy soul and a light soul, also known as Alecto and himself, to produce it.

Let us return to what Augustine says of the nature of his power: “You don’t get your power from Dominicus,” said Augustine. “It gets its power from you. There’s no exchange involved, no symbiosis. You draw nothing from the system. It relies on you entirely, as we all know. You’re God, John. But—as the Edenites are fond of pointing out—you were once a man. So whither that transition? Where does your power come from? Even if the Resurrection had been the greatest thanergy bloom ever triggered, it would drain away over time.”

John is the source of fresh thanergy in the system: he produces thalergy, which he can decay into thanergy. The thanergy in the system is finite, it would drain away after enough time, but his heavy and light soul reaction producing thalergy that can then be decayed into thanergy allows for new thanergy to be introduced into the system; John's necromancy's unique in that it relies on the rapid creation of thanergy via accelerated thalergetic decay, resulting in thanergetic fission.

Why do I say thanergetic fission? Becase it could explain why his necromancy is shown to manifest as large amounts of light, because what does thanergetic fission result in? We see when Palamedes utilises the rapid thanergetic fission of his thanergy reserves to blow up in Cytherea's face:

The sickroom exploded into white fire, and the bonds pinning Gideon snapped. She fell hard against the wall and spun, drunkenly, lurching back down the corridor as Palamedes Sextus made everything burn. There was no heat, but Gideon sprinted away from that cold white death without bothering to spare a glance behind as though flames were licking at her heels.

White light that gives off no heat. What happens when John reassembles himself?

White light. It bleached the insides of your nose and the back of your throat. It hurt coming out your ears. It bled out your eyeballs. It wasn’t a flash of light, more … a suddenness; when it was gone—as though it hadn’t even existed, but had been a luminous hallucination—time stopped.

Speaking of that scene, it is likely the most definitive proof we see that John produces thalergy, because there is no way for his body to function without thalergy, and thanergy cannot be converted to thalergy (as far as we know). That thalergy has to come from somewhere. John, the Resurrector, is able to create thalergy.

Do you know where else we see what is explicitly called a form of resurrection? The endothanergetic reaction that created Harrowhark Nonagesimus: "My parents gassed fifty-four infants, eighty-one children, and sixty-five teenagers, and harnessed that thanergy bloom to conceive me. My mother used the resultant power to modify her ovum on a chromosomal level, so thanergy ignition wouldn’t compromise the embryo. She did this so I would be a necromancer." [Harrow the Ninth]

A large amount of thanergy is generated within an instant by closely-timed apopneumatic shocks caused by sudden death via what Harrow specifically names as nerve gas [Gideon the Ninth]. This brings to mind thanergetic fission as opposed to fusion, due to the fact it relies on thanergy, but the key detail here lies in two factors: the unequal size of the nuclei (souls) involved here, and the fact these souls are shown to have been manipulated.

The souls—emphasis on souls, as opposed to thanergy—of a large amount of children, of varying ages, are forcibly prevented from passing to the River via liminal osmosis due to the sheer amount of thanergy involved, and they are tied to Harrow's soul, as shown by Abigail commenting on her unique spiritual signature: "I’ve counted up to one hundred and fifty signatures contributing to you, and there’s more—they’re stamps rather than complete revenants, of course, which means their spirits were manipulated to leave marks on you in some way, which is fascinating if it means…"

What is a planet's soul? A communal one, the thalergy complexity of a world. What is Harrow's soul? A communal one, exactly two hundred sons and daughters of her House, manipulated to be stamped on her original one. I cannot speak of what this means, but it means that Harrow's soul is naturally heavier than John's: a nuclei formed from two hundred others.

Conclusions

Lyctorhood is nuclear fusion, with souls as the nuclei: the combination of souls produces thanergy as a byproduct of the process of forming a new nuclei; Souls are not a perpetual energy source, and are unable to generate thanergy or thalergy on their own, it is the combination of them that creates thanergy or thalergy.

Petty Lysis, the Lyctorhood of the Saints, is an exothanergetic reaction which produces thanergy as the two souls involved are melded over untold years: it is not a one-way consumption, it is a fusion, but the power transferral does only go one way, due to the fact it is not a mutual death. Grand Lysis is a more complete, and thus powerful, version of this reaction wherein the two nuclei are fully combined within an instant, as opposed to gradually combined.

John's joining with Alecto works on the same fusion principle of Lyctorhood, but the difference lies in the nature of the reaction at the heart of it: he is endothanergetic and produces thalergy as opposed to thanergy, which he can subsequently decay into thanergy to fuel his necromancy. The Resurrection was made possible by him generating thanergy.

Final Note:

I want to point out something before anyone else can, and that is the fact Lyctors could be interpreted as working on pneumatic fission as opposed to fusion: meaning that the constituent souls are split to produce power, and that the exothanergetic and endothanergetic reactions would be reversed—John exothanergetic instead of endothanergetic, and vice versa with Petty Lyctors, which explains why they appear to be thanergy voids: they absorb all thanergy in their surroundings.

I considered this while writing this theory, but ultimately I found that fusion seemed more likel. Alternatively, both Paul and John are examples of pneumatic fusion due to their more complete Lyctorhood while the Petty Lyctors are working on pneumatic fission. I prefer the idea that all Lyctorhood is pneumatic fusion, which is why I ultimately leaned into that interpretation in this post.

Thank you for reading.

[theoryofthemultiverse]

Hoyo‘s Doctors when you have learning difficulties 📚

Synopsis: You truly struggle with learning and they try to find ways to help you grasp the concept of learning and the topic at hand better.

Characters: Baizhu, Dr. Ratio, Il Dottore

A.N: Please tell me I’m not the only one who struggles with this~

Disclaimer: Please keep in mind that this is not written having people with learning disabilities in mind. Though everyone might start from 0, anyone dealing with this has an even harder time learning and for that matter the situation would simply be different. :)

📕📗📘📙📕📗📘📙📕📗📘📙📕📗📘📙📕📗

Baizhu 🐍

Not the expert when it comes to learning on a broad spectrum. He knows how it worked for him to kinda memorize all the different herbs and remedies, but he also knows that his way of learning might not work for you.

Nonetheless he is determined to help you find a way to memorize things better.

He would probably base his deductions on learning types tho. So before anything, he would try to figure out which kind of learner you are (visual, auditory, etc.). Once he has that, he would try to help you by applying that learning type to your topics as well as he could help.

Need him to read it to you? Need him to simply sit there and listen to you? If he’s got the time after work, he will gladly offer it to you!

Dr. Ratio🎓

This man… is the personification of learning. So save to say, when you gave that doctor a call you did the right thing.

But be prepared, he will be shocked and gaslight you at first.

„What do you mean you can’t learn? Everybody can, you just have to learn how to learn and memorize first.“

But after his initial shock he will try to help you. He will give you a book that apparently teaches how to learn to learn, but you tell him that in order to understand that book you’d need to already understand how to learn.

Save to say you can see him dying on the inside a little before he regains his composure and tells himself how you are genuinely trying. He will then try to find out what your problem is on why you really can’t remember that well and then give you a bit more motivation to read the book after explaining what you can do about your suspected initial problem and return should you have more questions.

Il Dottore🧪

„Simple, you write it down and then look at it until it’s in your brain.“ While that may be simple for him, it’s basically no use to you. So you tell him and he is a bit nonchalant. It doesn’t work for you? Then go and search for someone else that can help you, or has another idea.

It doesn’t come as a surprise that this discourages you and he sees that. So to try at least a little more, he tries to understand what the problem is.

Should it be missing focus he might be able to give you a vial of a self brewed remedy that help you stick to the topic again. But if it’s nothing that can be fixed with a pat on the shoulder or a glowing liquid?

He is going to tell you it’s out of his radar.

„But if you ever find out your problem is simply lack of visuals and you’re learning chemistry or biology/anatomy… I might have some descriptive experiments you could attend.“

At least he can say he tried :(

[tiredbisexual1312]

I’m currently watching the x-files for the first time (I just finished s2e14) and the personification of the devil being an old biology teacher is so real. As someone who had an evil old math teacher, for whom we would come up with the craziest theories to justify her behaviour, I felt seen lol.

[funky-frankie]

I have always had an interest in Marine Biology, and it just occured to me that my main interests at the moment are straight up on the opposite ends of the spectrum:

Octonauts and Subnautica.

FRIGGIN ANTHROPOMORPHIC ANIMALS SINGING FUN FACTS ABOUT ANIMALS INTENED FOR TODDLERS VS THE PERSONIFICATION OF ANXIETY AND THALASSOPHOIA.

[feralwritings]

three's company

part four

masterpost

words: 2.7k

Huddled underneath the expanse of Skull Rock, listening to the distant screeches of bats, shoulder to shoulder with Steve and Eddie, she thought that things couldn’t possibly get worse. 

They do, of course, because her dire reality is accompanied by flashbacks of Starcourt, the bitter taste of adrenaline and blood sticking to her tongue all that time later. With each blink, she saw Vecna staring at her through Billy’s eyes, watched herself break and bend and bleed, watched the bloodlust bloom in her own eyes. 

It’s scary. How hungry she was for Billy’s death. How hungry she was to exact some modicum of revenge against the creature, against Vecna, who had robbed her of so much of her innocence with each swipe of a taloned hand, with each drop of blood split, hers or otherwise, with each flood of acrid terror spiking through her bloodstream as she helplessly watched those she loved get hurt. 

That was the worst part, she thought. The helplessness. That no matter how hard they tried, how many plans they came up with, vestiges of brilliance hidden away in the recesses of their minds, Vecna was always one step ahead. It sometimes felt like they were his little marionettes, plastered smiles, rusted parts playing into his game. 

In ‘83, when it was just the demogorgon, it seemed…easier, in a sense. They didn’t fully understand the magnitude of what they were facing, and the idea that this creature was killing out of necessity, of hunger or prey drive was comforting in a way. That despite not being of this earth, of this dimension, it still stayed in between the lines of biology that they knew: killing out of need. 

Now, not with a full understanding but certainly a broader one, they had been thoroughly disavowed of this notion. That Vecna simply enjoyed killing. There was a purpose, there had to be, but she found it difficult to believe that it would make sense to anyone but him.

By showing her what had happened last year, he’d done two things. 

One, showed her what she was truly capable of. 

Two, and most devastatingly, had shown her that he understood her completely. 

Being known in any sense is precarious and terrifying. Being known by the personification of evil is infinitely worse, because no amount of unpredictability, no amount of trying to outsmart him, to not play into his hands isn’t going to work. 

He knew who and what she loved. He knew what she’ll do to protect them. He was plucking her strings almost lovingly as he deprived her of what she wanted, of what she’s always wanted, even before the gate had opened.

To be understood for who she was. And to be loved anyway. 

Just because he wanted to. Because it brought him pleasure. 

She toyed with the idea of breaking off from the group, taking herself out of the equation entirely, finding her own way Topside. She knew that they would never let her, even if they had to drag her along with them by force. It’s a fight that she won’t win, and the exhaustion of the last few days, of her encounter with the tendrils had rendered her a little vacant, the biological processes that kept her alive running on autopilot while she existed with one foot here, in the Upside Down, and one foot in the past, straddling the precipice between who she used to be and who she’s failing to become. 

She stood on shaky legs once Nancy deemed it safe, leaning heavily against the rock as she listened to the distant rolling thunder. Her leg hurt worse than her body and she didn’t know why. Bending, she rolled up the cuff of her jeans and found a huge bruise blooming around a nasty little gash, right in the center of her shin. When she put pressure on that leg, more blood seeped out, which wasn’t a good sign. Nancy was tending to Steve somewhere to her right, she heard fabric tearing and a quick glance tells her that Steve was slowly losing blood, too, but far more severe. In an attempt to staunch her own blood flow, she pulled up her sock around the wound, hoping that it would do in the meantime before she can care for it properly.

So wrapped up in her own wound, she doesn’t notice that Eddie has kneeled in front of her before he’s leaning, tugging the bandana out of his back pocket. Without instruction or preamble, he pulled her foot to rest on his thigh, tugging the hem of her pants up to reveal the wound. He left the sock where it was, but wrapped his bandana around her shin securely, double knotting it.

When he looked up, all onyx eyes and wavy hair, her breath caught in her throat. There was something familiar in his gaze, a burgeoning sense of need that she saw in another pair of dark eyes not even a year ago. 

It occurred to her, somewhere in the back of her mind and for the first time, that she might have been caught in the middle of something that she could scarcely imagine.

“Thanks,” She managed to choke out, taking her foot off of Eddie’s thigh, and she looked toward the others, who were discussing where they should go from here.

Robin suggested Hawkins PD, which was all the way downtown, and Nancy vetoed that.

“We don’t need to go all the way downtown for guns,” She said, and there was an unsettling little smile on her lips, “I have guns. In my bedroom.”

Next to her* Eddie stiffened, “You, Nancy Wheeler, have guns, plural, in your bedroom?”

To an outsider, Nancy Wheeler packing heat may seem strange, but to the three of them who know Nancy know that if she could have more, she absolutely would. She* specifically remembered a couple years ago, watching Nancy rest the stock of a rifle against her shoulder, stance widening like Hopper’s, gaze hard and focused on the Byer’s front door.

With a destination in mind, they set off. Robin and Nancy were heading up the front, *she’s in the middle, with Steve and Eddie trailing behind.

Steve watches from afar as she* stepped over logs and various undulating tendrils. He could feel Eddie next to him, and he knew that they were looking at the same thing.

“What’s the deal with you two, man?” Eddie asked, out of the blue. Steve had somewhat expected it, noticing Eddie’s dark eyes watching the both of them, curious and a little apprehensive.

Steve needed to buy some time, even if it was only seconds.

“Who? Me and Robin?” He said, trying to make it sound as genuine as possible.

It didn’t land, as Eddie gave him a playful shove on the shoulder and snorted out a laugh, “You know that’s not who I was referring to.”

“Right,” Steve amended, taking a deep breath, “I mean, her* and I have known each other since we were babies. Fell out around the beginning of middle school, didn’t talk for a few years. Then, in ‘83, when this shit started, she found me wandering about town after Jonathan and I had got into it. Patched me up. Ever since then, we just kinda came in and out of each other’s lives. Usually when the world was about to end.”

He kicked through the decaying leaves on the ground, turning them into a sort of dust in his wake that stuck in the air like the rest of the particles that floated around.

“Why’d you two fall out? She seems to care about you. Like, a lot.” Eddie inquired, and Steve could feel Eddie watching him intently.

“It was my fault,” Steve admitted softly, “The way we were both raised, on that side of town and with the money and the parents we had… she always found a way to reject it. Always questioning everything around her. For a long time I loved that about her, the defiance. Until we got to middle school, and the way she was started getting me shit from people, and I just…I wanted to fit in, at any cost, ya know? Back when that type of shit mattered to me.”

He glanced at Eddie, whose eyes had never left him even as they were walking.

“So I blew it up. Started cutting her out. Started ignoring her. She noticed, of course, called me out, we got into this big fight. And that was it.”

It’s painful, even now, recounting it. Those few years when they weren’t talking, there was always this persistent ache in his chest that crescendoed into a hot spike of pain whenever he saw her; whether it be in the halls at school, at some stupid company party their parents had dragged them to. 

“Jesus,” Eddie sighed, “That’s… a lot. And she forgave you?”

Steve shrugged, “I don’t know if she did. We never really talked about it.”

Eddie seemed to know that Steve wasn’t telling him the full truth. He’s a perceptive guy, so he knew that something else occurred between them, he just didn’t know what. 

Steve’s shoulders were tight. He was sad, there’s no other way about it. He was sad about her, about this, about everything. Here he was, again, traipsing through another dimension, not knowing what is going to come next or if he’s even going to survive it. 

Eddie reached out and gives Steve’s shoulder a squeeze. The gentle, steady pressure unwound the knot in Steve’s stomach a little, and he spared him a shy smile. 

They trudged on, not talking much. Eddie tripped over a vine and Steve caught him before he could fall. 

It’s strange how easily they fall into step next to each other. Two sides of the same coin, something within Steve reckons quietly, two boys on opposite sides of town, different yet similar. 

And Steve, usually jealous and territorial over what’s his, even if it isn’t, even if he wants it to be, doesn’t feel that way about Eddie. It’s not that he’s not a credible threat - he most certainly is, judging by the way she* looks at him, all soft smiles and curious eyes, but there’s just not anything in Steve, at this point in time, that holds any ill will towards Eddie. 

He’s curious too, if he’s honest with himself. Eddie has an aura that’s hard to look away from, even harder to define. There’s more that lies beneath the frenetic surface, beneath the wild hair and the even wilder eyes. 

He’s cool, in a different way than Steve was, and maybe that’s the kicker. That he’s genuinely cool, not just a weird sort of facade that Steve had carefully built, only for it to come crashing down with a broken heart and a few otherworldly visitors. 

He didn’t even feel superior to Eddie over the fact that he’s had sex with her - not even a little bit. Sure, that night came to him a lot, in his dreams or in the middle of a shift at Family Video, but the way it ended, the way he ended it usurps most other emotions about it. Sticky hot shame replaced satisfaction over the fact that he felt her, kissed her, fucked her. 

He didn’t know what she and Eddie got up to in the hours upon hours they were alone. He doubted anything happened other than just trying to survive, but there was a casual intimacy to their interactions that gave Steve pause and would set the wondering off all over again. What did they talk about? Did they talk about him? Is there a world in which Eddie knows what happened between them? 

Steve knew it was conceited to think about whether they talked about him. He knew, deep down, that they didn’t. They probably talked about that Mordor shit they’re both into, about music. Shit like that. 

Regardless of how he feels or how it’s going to turn out, there’s a change happening. Changing of the guard, so to speak, not a replacement but a retirement. 

She’d hate that, though, the idea of having a guard or a keeper. Steve kinda hated it too, but she’s the type of person who needed other people around to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid. Well, anything stupider than what she’s already done. 

Always playing the hero, always with something to prove. A steadfast defiance that had been part of her since she was little, transforming into something else in the face of a war.

Steve wondered if there’s any winning here. He doubted it, somehow. Going around in circles with this Upside Down shit has become an annual occurrence, and when/if it ends, he wondered what will be left.

Nothing, a voice said, and it didn’t feel internal at all, but he knew that he’s the only one who heard it.

Nothing, and no one. 

Magic is real.

That’s the conclusion that she* draws, watching with her arms braced on Nancy’s footboard, watching the shimmering particles grow brighter with every letter Nancy traced into them.

She scanned each look of wonder on her friend’s faces, feeling indelible softness for each of them in turn, watching the light dance in the crystal and cobalt of Robin and Nancy’s eyes, the hazel and onyx of Steve and Eddie’s.

She could hear Dustin’s voice echoing from far away, traversing dimensions and the soundwaves therein, and there was hope in her chest that they actually might make it home. What was waiting for them, she didn’t know, but the Upside Down was cold and populated with a murderous wizard and his thousands, if not millions bloodthirsty pets. She was ready to be back Topside, at any rate.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve sighed, knuckles tightening almost imperceptibly around the flashlight he was holding, “This kids gotta get his ego in check.”

“It’s his tone, right?” Eddie offered, leaning past Nancy to look at Steve, brows drawing together in agreement.

“I know,” Steve agreed.

“How far is your trailer?” Nancy asked Eddie, and he didn’t even take a beat to think.

“Seven miles,” He supplied, and that seemed to solidify the plan in Nancy’s mind.

They thundered back down the stairs, making entirely too much noise. Nancy led them to her driveway, where four bikes sat, all piled up on top of each other.

“There’s five of us,” Robin sighed, looking at the bikes and then at the group.

“One of us will just have to ride on the back of one,” Nancy said, already selecting hers from the pile.

She* grabbed the one with the pegs on the back tire, dragging it back and forth to make sure the tires haven’t gone flat. When she mounted up, she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned.

“I don’t think so, you’ve got a bum leg,” Eddie said in her ear, and she rolled his hand off her shoulder playfully.

“I’ll be fine, get on.”

“Bum leg?” Steve’s head whipped around from where he was sitting on his own bike, “What happened to your leg?”

She shrugged, “Could’ve been anything. I think it happened when we got dragged through the gate - I felt something right before we went in but I can’t be sure.”

Eddie was poking her in the side, “Off.”

“Fine,” She rolled her eyes, dismounting and letting the bike fall towards Eddie, “But if you crash with me on the back-”

“You’ll be fine,” Eddie assured her, tugging her by the arm towards the bike, “C’mere, get on.”

She stepped up on the pegs, securing herself by grabbing fistfuls of Eddie’s jacket, face riddled with anxiety as they set off. 

The journey wasn’t as treacherous as they had anticipated, the roads remarkably intact, smooth save for a few bundles of tendrils that they had to swerve to avoid. 

Her calves were burning from keeping balance, and when they finally, finally arrived at Eddie’s trailer, she stepped down on shaky legs, huffing out a breath as she regained feeling in the soles of her feet. 

Together, the piled into the trailer.

Eddie’s hand slipped into hers. She looked up at him, watching the color drain from his face as he stares at the ceiling, watching the gate pulse, the membrane moving like waves in the ocean. 

She squeezed his hand, pressing into his side. Steve was approaching the gate slowly, as something was pressing into it, distending the membrane. 

Suddenly, there’ was a snap and the membrane tore. They all approached, looking up. 

“Hi!” Dustin waved, smiling so wide that it made her* heart soar. Erica, Max, and Lucas were there too, and they all smiled and waved, pleased beyond belief that Dustin’s theory worked. 

“Bada bada boom!” Dustin exclaimed.

[boymanmaletheshequel]

The Name Is Poseidon 🔱

Poseidon is a part of me that no crashing wave of circumstance could ever truly demolish. Ever since I was a child, some of the best moments of my life have occurred by the sea. Every summer, after months of being forced to participate in an education system inherently judgemental and cruel to me, due to the neurological conditions of which I could not, and should not have helped but have, my family and i escaped to a place that made those experiences dissipate, as if suspended in time for a short while if only to take a break from it all. We escaped to the coast. The coasts of Oregon and Washington are unbeatable. Tide pools of green anemones and purple and orange stars pepper the sandy coastline in moments of interruption amidst monolithic rocks and volcanic pillars, a marine garden hosting a bevy of life and biodiversity. And during those trips, when I could escape the education I’d come to resent, I found that in truth, learning was something I couldn’t get enough of, when it was catered to ME. Back home, when I was forced to spend those 6 hours a day in the institution of ignorance, and of abandonment that is the United States Education system, there was one thing that made the greyness in me turn colorful. Shark books. Of course, what young autist is not captivated by the world of sharks and marine predators? And so, with every trip I returned to the coast, my appreciation, and with it my LOVE for the ocean grew evermore. Now, after 15 years of visits, and 10 years of teaching myself marine biology through countless hours of studying and learning, I know the names of every single organism on those beaches. The tour guides at haystack rock know me now, they know that they get to take a break when I show up, because I will answer the questions of every single curious beachgoer on the sand. I am intwined with the sea, afterall, I, and infact, all of you, did come from it. I’ve always felt there was a personality to it all, to the sea. A personification if it’s intrigue, it’s beauty and it’s tragedy, and the role it has played in shaping culture and humanity as we know it. A name to personify the endless depth of emotion, and curiosity that it prevokes, the beauty, and the unimaginable power it possesses. Well, now I know that name. The name is one of which strikes both fear and wonder into me each time I hear it, comfort, and yet great respect, it is a name that describes he duality, the undeniable connection we all share with the water and the sea. A name that is truly the epitome of the sea. The name of course, is Poseidon.

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

What are some Gallifreyan wedding traditions (eg. standard vows, laws surrounding what counts as consummation, etc)

What are some Gallifreyan wedding traditions?

This is something we know sod all about, and there's literally not even enough information to draw any kind of vaguely probable conclusion. I recommend a quick read of the below post, then come back:

Some wild theories™ continue below:

🏛️ Alliances and Contracts

Marriages on Gallifrey often serve as strategic alliances between powerful Houses. These strengthen political positions, secure resources, and ensure the continuation of influential bloodlines.

Marriages might be arranged by the elders of the Houses, making personal choice a secondary role.

Intricate contracts might be drawn up before the wedding, detailing the terms of the alliance, each party's responsibilities, and any dowries or exchanges involved.

These contracts might be recorded in the Matrix, preserving them for future reference.

💍 The Ceremony

The bride and groom traditionally wear white, the Gallifreyan colour for the personification of Death. It might be a nod to the eternal nature of their commitment.

Long hair is braided, possibly interwoven with strands representing their House colours or symbols. This might signify the intertwining of their lives.

Instead of verbal vows, the couple might exchange telepathic vows, creating a mental link that lets them share thoughts and emotions during the ceremony.

These vows could be recorded in their biodata, like tattooing yourself with the name of your beloved.

📜 Consummation and Legalities

Consummation probably isn't a physical union. It could be a merging of biodata or a psionic union.

The act could be ritualistic, involving ancient rites of the Eternals.

For the marriage to be legally recognised, it might be registered with the Capitol and logged in the Matrix.

Witnesses from both Houses might be required to sign off on the union.

🎉 Post-Ceremony Traditions

The couple might create a time capsule filled with mementoes from their Houses and personal artefacts, which is then sent to a future date as a testament to their union's longevity.

As a gift to each other, the couple might weave a part of their biodata into a shared artefact, like a pendant or a ring.

The wedding feast might be an outrageously lavish affair, held in the grand halls of the Capitol or the House estates.

Celebrations might last for days, with each House showcasing its history and achievements like an Olympic host opening ceremony.

🏫 So ...

While much of Gallifreyan wedding traditions are a complete unknown, we've had a shot at some ideas that may or may not exist, and I'll leave it to you good people to decide or make your own.

Related:

How does marriage and dating work on Gallifrey?: The cultural norms of Gallifreyan relationships.

How does divorce work on Gallifrey?: How divorces might actually work, legally and socially.

How might Gallifreyans view divorce?: How divorces might be viewed on Gallifrey.

Hope that helped! 😃

More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[jojobuddy]

The Bad Batch + NightSister!reader

You are one of the survivors of the cleansing on Dathomir and now you are on a journey. It is not surprising that on your way you meet different living beings, including clones.

Thanks to your acquaintance with Sid, she offered you as a help for some clones that call themselves a Bad Batch. It's a strange name.

Among these clones was a little girl who turned out to be fascinated by your appearance and asked so many questions, but…You didn't hate her. Omega, that's how she introduced herself. A charming child. But soon you were able to meet others.

Hunter:

The leader of these clones. Strangely, he was much shorter than the others. Although it's not weird, it's funny. Judging by the way he behaved, he fully corresponded to his name. Mysterious, strong, as if like the personification of a real man in a good way.

Wrecker:

The noisiest among them and the biggest. When he saw you, he tried to flirt clumsily and show how strong he was. It seemed that he was in the truest sense of the word, a child in the body of an adult man. You didn't know much about clones and their biology, so there were a lot of questions.

Echo:

The quiet one. He stands somewhere next to everyone else and is mostly silent. The interesting thing is that you saw that he is half human and half made of metal. Who is he? A droid? There were only more questions.

Tech:

And this miracle in goggles is a walking encyclopedia. Listening to him, you had to strain your brain a lot and think about everything he was saying. There is too much terminology and dry analytics. And he talked too much, telling you a few facts about Dathomir. You wanted to interrupt him, but it was pretty hard to do.

& Crosshair:

There is too much concentration of mockery and sarcasm in front of others. On the one hand, he looked more severe, but at the same time, he did not waste a moment and tried to be charming. It was not very usual for any man to openly flirt and not restrain himself.

[batmanfruitloops]

What are your general inspirations for the scare beast form?

I was mainly inspired by the animal kingdom. I'm enamored by all things biology and scarebeast is the perfect opportunity to express that. I also love horror and monsters. Though there were no specific monsters that inspired my design, it was more general concepts and ideas that I enjoyed. Though maybe a sub-conscious inspiration is the Xenomorph from Alien. I love the idea of monsters being a personification of aspects of humanity or an individual. My favorite is when they represent suffering and trauma. The creature itself is in pain as the result of the hubris of others. Scarebest fits so well with that idea.

The animal kingdom has a lot to offer in terms of brutality and horror. Most environments are unforgiving and so animals must adapt to that harshness. Things that we as humans are scared of from fiction or otherwise is an experience animals have every day. An animal is scariest when it is scared. So I tried to work with that idea. Jonathan has lost his human perception and sense of logic and reasoning, he's only left with what is ahead of him and the ringing question of "Will I survive today?" Acting solely on instinct and a drive to live. That is not a fight any organism wants to lose and they will do everything to win. It is unwise to get in the way of that when it's a ten-foot genetic abomination with several means of killing you.

I hope that's comprehensive. I have a hard time expressing ideas like that into words, if you need more clarification let me know.

-Fluffy

[elliott-the-creature]

we’re already pretty blurry and experience a lot of co-fronting and layering, but as of late, we’ve noticed some patterns in terms of who fronts as a result of certain stimuli/situations.

turns out some of the relationships formed between us in headspace goes so far that they’ll (almost) always co-front together and even merge to make a blurnaut (they’ll always end up splitting back to their original forms after around 1-2 hours)

feel like I should document some of the most frequent blurnauts cuz I think it’s pretty interesting

daisy (🌼) is a blurnaut between maple and princess. they’re full of childlike wonder, is super kind to everyone, and love nature and art. they also tend to form crushes on a lot of people (although they’re usually aesthetic or platonic crushes)

domino (🎶) is a blurnaut between tyler and red, and most often co-front when listening to music. they love all kinds of music, but hyper music and songs with lots of techno sounds are their favourite (their top favourite rn is actually penny’s battle theme from Pokemon)

storm (⛈️) is a blurnaut between red and finley, and is an absolute emotional wreck. they co-front when I feel super overwhelmed, and it’s often super intense and difficult to deal with their combined emotions

midnight (🌗) is a blurnaut between finley and Something, and is basically the personification of my sadness, anxiety, and loneliness. it’s an odd pair, but they surprisingly go well together

nerd (🐍) is a blurnaut between tyler and flax, and is kinda like a special interest holder. they adore animals of all kinds, and are always wanting to learn more about animals and how the world works (if you want to send in any fun facts about biology they would LOVE that so so much)

indie (📝) is a blurnaut between maple and tyler, and are the go-getters of this collective. they co-front most during school or when we’re in public, and are very responsible and polite (even if we don’t want to be polite or nice to someone)

[minipliny]

30 second book reviews: The Sea Lady, Margaret Drabble

Oh my goodness, this was not necessarily a successful book but it was a lot of fun. I found myself heavily screencapping it as I went along just to check I hadn't imagined the running plot thread of the feminist artist wearing a necklace of her own aborted fetus or of the marine biologist character comparing absolutely every experience in his life to marine biology.

It was inspired by Margaret Drabble's experience being on the panel of the Aventis prize, which is all about bridging the gap between science and art, and here we have the personification of science and the personification of art as Bitter Exes Who Might Be About To Make. Go Of It Late In Life. One of whom is a feisty feminist public arts critic (with a notorious and controversial necklace) one of whom is a marine biologist whose disastrous pursuit of an outdated theory (ethology) and semi failed commercial aquarium attraction have left him feeling washed up. There's childhood friendships, a doomed Greek holiday romance, and a truly stunning amount of fish metaphors.

[koolkat9]

Does Prussia live in Germany's basement still in 2023?

Yeah. But its gotten cozier year after year. It's almost like a mini apartment except their isn't a full kitchen. He probably has a mini fridge or something though.

This is just so the brothers have their own spaces now that they're both adults. Also...Gilbert can't exactly leave. Humans don't exactly understand nation biology or what it means for a nation personification when a country dissolves. Frankly, nations aren't really sure what happens to themselves when that happens. So Ludwig's bosses decided to house them together after the Berlin Wall fell. Because 1) At this point they as well as other nations are theorizing Gilbert may have taken on the role of being the personification of East Germany 2) Even if this theory isn't true, they can't have what they think is an immortal being running around unsupervised.

Recently Gilbert has considered that maybe he's only still around because he's living around Ludwig another nations. After all, humans can become immortal if they stay around nations long enough, but the human mind isn't built for that. But Gilbert was a nation, so his mind was indeed use to it, so he remains immortal using a similar principal. That would probably explain why he heals slower because he's lost his nation ability to heal quickly. So he's more than happy to live with another nation. He's scared to think what might happen to him if he didn't.

That last idea is why I actually think he's still around. As long as he doesn't get fatally injured, he will live thanks to how country immortality can affect those around them.

[missingexaltation]

(this is a bit long and...a bit angsty I guess!)

Eddie knows he's trailer trash. It's like, an undisputed fact. He's dirt poor, with zero prospects, a criminal record and half criminal family, and definitely (one thousand percent) punching above his weight with Steve.

Steve's awesome. Rich, hilarious, friendly and brave and so so fucking loyal it hurts. Eddie's seen Steve's every personification of those traits expressed in a million ways, and he's well aware of how little he has to offer in return. He's always been aware of his faults, having had them pointed out on a daily fucking basis since before he could remember.

And the selfish, greedy, unlovable gremlin that Eddie is, won't can't let this relationship with Steve go until he has to, until Steve is the one to end it. Which won't happen, not if Eddie can help it. Not if Eddie can twist, reshape and alter himself into something that Steve can tolerate.

He knows it's woefully one sided, he's not stupid after all. He knows what it's like to be the clingy, weird kid that's impossible to get rid of, the boundary tester, the motor mouth, the freak. He knows that there's a not small part of Steve that's embarrassed of him, that appreciates it when Eddie tones himself down to something reasonably fucking normal.

Shit, one of his only solid memories of his mom is her shoving him at Wayne and begging him to 'take that fucking kid away' from her. And if his own mama couldn't love him then who the fuck could? So he doesn't blame Steve at all. It's just another fact. Up is up, the earth is round and Eddie is a broken shell masquerading as a semi-functioning adult.

It hurts though, the night he gets it confirmed. It hurts like he's been literally stabbed in the chest when he hears them whispering during movie night, almost six months into their relationship.

Robin's scared that she's losing her best friend, and Steve, assuming that he was asleep, whisper-replying that 'I mean...Eddie's fine, Bobbin, but you're my best friend, my soulmate, I'll never put anyone above us.'

So of course Eddie knows they're not going to have a fairytale ending. There's something intrinsically damaged in Eddie's biology, in his DNA that just renders him as a fond memory waiting to happen. The aberration in Steve's dating history that he'll look back on in a few decades and wonder what the hell he was thinking, (but at least it had been fun at the time?).

But. Eddie'd had the choice, there and then, on what to do.

To get up, walk and lose Steve immediately, or take the coward's way out and pretend he actually was sleeping, that he knows no better, that there's a minute fucking chance that one day Steve could love him, even if everyone around them is tapping their watches and waiting for the inevitable fallout.

And that was the funny thing, if it bought Eddie more time in this bubble, then it was the coward's way every chance he got. So that night he'd stayed still and tried not to curl into a ball and sob when Steve's arm slipped from behind his shoulder and around Robin's instead. He knows his place now, and there was a sick kind of confirmation in that, at least. The timer was set, but there was no telling when the alarm would go off.

And from that night it only escalated further. He set aside his disappointment when their alone time became simply 'alone with Robin' time (unless Steve was horny, at least that was just the two of them). He held it together each time Steve inevitably cancelled or postponed their plans because Robin needed him. He told himself it was fine when they platonically shared a bed during sleepovers with the kids, and Eddie was relegated to babysitter duty downstairs. He sat in the back seat of the car without question, lacing his own fingers together and trying to convince himself that they were joined with Steve's.

He ignored every unknowingly barbed comment that Robin made about 'boys being gross, Steve, how could you do it?', all the while internally begging Steve not to think about it too hard. He pretended he didn't see the triumphant smiles she flashed every time Steve chose her instead, the aching, empty void inside trying to justify itself and coming up short.

He acceded every time without a fight, waiting until he was inevitably alone in his bed at night and could let the agony of loneliness rip him apart, wishing that for once he could be the one chosen first and (despite daydreaming otherwise) knowing that it would never happen. It didn't happen, not for people like him.

He spent nights sleeping in his van to give Wayne and Claudia privacy (because Dustin was a nosy little fucker and they weren't ready to tell him just yet), and wished that he could be at Steve's instead, but knowing that he'd be interrupting their time together. He told Steve that he loved him, relishing in the soft, bashful little smile that he got in return, and squashed any painful, pointless hope of him saying it back.

It was fine, because if it wasn't fine, he would never recover.

Then it was three years into their relationship and holy hell Eddie would never think of not saying it. It bubbled under his skin and was branded in every atom of his existence, and if it made Steve feel good to hear it, so much the better. It was ok that Steve never said it back, it was. Steve must like Eddie enough, he wouldn't have stayed for so long if he didn't, and that was enough for Eddie.

It was fine that Steve and Robin lived together while Eddie stayed in his own apartment. If Steve wanted to live with him, he'd have asked, or at least hinted. As it was, Eddie spent most of his time juggling shitty part-time jobs and a tattoo apprenticeship, saving every cent he could after rent, in case one day he was lucky enough to get the chance to share their home.

He skipped food on their dates, opting for just a water (or a side if he had enough), as paying for both Steve and Robin's food was enough to clear him out if he wasn't careful. Three failed senior years were almost enough to financially screw him over, but not quite.

He worked long hours, but kept his head above water. It kept him busy anyway, kept his brain from obsessing over not seeing Steve for however many days it had been this time.

And he never complained. Not once. If he did, he knew that it was the end for him and Steve, and it would fucking break him when it happened. Cowardice was Eddie's middle name, if you cut him he oozed it before he bled blood.

He'd perfected it.

So when Steve and Robin came back from another impromptu vacation, and loudly proclaimed in front of their friends, the kids and their parents that they had gotten drunk married in Vegas, Eddie was surprised that he felt anything at all.

But he did.

It didn't quite register at first, until he heard the words 'my husband' out of Robin's mouth and then oh. Oh.

That was something Eddie would never have. He'd never be able to walk down the aisle and proclaim his undying love with Steve in front of their friends and family. They'd never get a first dance, or cut a cake they'd chosen, he'd never hear Wayne's proud speech or know the feeling of Steve slipping a wedding band onto his finger.

That wasn't the world they lived in.

He was an idiot. A delusional, dumb fucking idiot for thinking, hoping that one day the world would be more tolerant. Because it didn't matter.

Steve was Robin's husband, he lived with her, vacationed with her, worked with her and took her to dinners with his parents. Platonic or not, she had another part of him that Eddie could never have.

Even if the world was a kinder place for queer people in general, Eddie would never have been an option for someone like Steve. Of course not. Of fucking course not. Holy shit, he was so fucking dumb. Three failed senior years and he's still shocked at the depths of how fucking stupid he is.

He has to be grateful for what he's got.

So when the newlyweds finally remember he exists, and turn to him with glee and mirth in their eyes, he does his best not to let his shattered, grieving, shadow of a broken fucking heart show.

It wouldn't make a difference, anyway.