#i think this is the longest thing ive ever posted

[craqueluring]

lets talk about dracula

TLDR: in both hannibal and dracula, 'man' and 'monster' are uncomfortably similar. the repulsion that 'man' has in response to this grey area is a part of what compels them to attempt to separate themselves from the monster in some way. the only way they actually succeed at this is in complete annihilation of the monster. despite this, their attempts at separation only blur the lines even further between them as the 'men' act increasingly like 'monster' in order to separate them, which is an obvious contradiction. a large part of the horror of both dracula and hannibal is the fact that the line between monster and non-monster becomes blurred. this is not only in that the monsters, hannibal and dracula, look human, but also because the humans can act like the monster, can lose themselves in this, and, eventually, like will, can consciously Become the monster.

i have three main parts to this:

similarity between man and monster

consequent impulse of man to separate self from the monster. the only way to do this is annihilation of the monster

in the attempts at separation, man and monster become even more similar

prepare for a long post <3

1. similarity between man and monster

in both dracula and hannibal, the characters are able to recognize their humanity in the monster in some way. the monsters look human, physically, and can blend in with humans, but they are far enough from humanity to be termed 'monsters.' alana says to hannibal in 3x08:

“You've long been regarded by your peers in psychiatry as something entirely Other. For convenience, they term you a monster.”

and not only can the monsters imitate humans, but the humans can imitate monsters. 

johnathan harker, a main character in dracula, watches dracula disturbingly crawl down the castle wall, and asks “What manner of man is this, or what manner of creature is it in the semblance of a man?” effectively, he is asking 'is dracula a man that is insane, or is he something entirely other that just looks like a man?' in this harker is" [repulsed] by his recognition of humanity in Dracula’s appearance and animalistic behavior."

despite this repulsion, he mimics dracula in the very behavior he was repulsed by in his attempts to escape and explore the castle

"While Harker loathes the “vision of otherness in human shape,” at the same time it helps him to “briefly expand his awareness of his own potential elasticity,”...(Auerbach 89). Although Harker remains disgusted by Dracula’s ability to impersonate humanity while retaining animalistic mannerisms, he nevertheless imitates the vampire’s environmental adaptability and expands his own capabilities. The interchangeability between the two existing beings creates apprehension not only of Dracula’s ability to pass as human, but also, if not more so, of Harker’s identification with Dracula" (x)

this directly parallels will's ability to imagine himself as the killers he investigates. although will and harker are repulsed by the behaviors of the 'monster' in question, they nevertheless mimic it. i will expand on this later.

so, the monsters look human. the monsters can act human. the men can act like the monsters. this grey area makes the men very uncomfortable. 

2. consequent impulse of man to separate self from the monster. the only way to do this is annihilation of the monster

"This concept of [repulsive] recognition with an alien being underlines the entire novel, as Harker and the other male characters continue to reassert a form of difference between themselves and the vampire. Ultimately, their only way to clearly distinguish themselves from the abhorrent vampire is to annihilate Dracula completely" (x)

jack, alana, and will all continually attempt to stop hannibal by trying to imprison him, catch him, ignore him, etc. a large part of their motivation for this is either on the basis of morals and/or revenge, but i think a part of it could also be, like the characters in dracula, their trying to distinguish themselves from hannibal in reaction to such a repulsive monster being so close to humanity.

one of will's attempts to separate himself from hannibal in the face of this uncomfortable similarity/recognition with a monster is when he pulled a knife on hannibal in the uffizi gallery in 3x06 dolce. as chiyoh says in 3x05:

"If you don't kill him, you are afraid you will become him."

obviously will does not succeed. hannibal is imprisoned, but he is still not stopped. hannibal literally volunteers himself to be imprisoned to jack, which completely negates jack, alana, and will's goal of imprisoning hannibal as a way to separate themselves from hannibal. he is in the back of will's head for years: "[i am] where you always know where to find me," always tempting him to take a step towards Becoming. hannibal antagonizes alana in their talks, he is studied in the psychiatric journals. he is still there and he is still a monster that is uncomfortably similar to a man, or a man that is uncomfortably similar to a monster.

like in dracula, eventually, the only way jack, will, and alana can truly distinguish themselves from hannibal is by killing him. 

hannibal is not killing or doing harm in prison. they have him. he cannot do anything. unless he figures out some way to escape, he will never do anything harmful again. there is no real, pressing necessary reason to kill hannibal. and yet, will, jack, and alana plan to do just that in 3x13 TWOTL. a part of the reason i think they do this is because of the uncomfortable recognition of humanity in the monstrous human or humanoid monster that is hannibal. will, though, either no longer desires to be separated from hannibal or cannot be separated from hannibal, so he dies with hannibal.

in dracula, 

"The vampire hunters’ mission can be interpreted as a quest to eliminate the grey area where men and animals merge in a kind of monstrous coexistence." (x)

just as the characters in dracula feel compelled to separate themselves from dracula, jack, will, and alana feel compelled to separate themselves from hannibal. and, in both, the only way this happens is with the annihilation of dracula/hannibal. in hannibal, will is unable to separate himself from hannibal, so he is annihilated alongside hannibal.

semi-TLDR: okay, so it has been established that the line between man and monster is blurred by both. the monsters look human. the humans can mimic monsters. the humans hate this grey area and the similarities between them, and they want to separate themselves from the monster in some way. this is only achieved in complete annihilation of the monster

3. in the attempts at separation, man and monster become even more similar

despite men being repulsed by the grey area between them and monster, not only do they mimic the monsters, but in their attempts at separation, this imitation becomes more frequent and necessary, and the lines between them blur even further. so, while trying to distinguish themselves from the monster, they only become more similar.

in my opinion, the main way the characters in dracula distinguish themselves from him is actually not simply because they are not vampires. i think the main way the characters separate themselves from dracula is their christian religious values. after dracula attacks her, mina is cursed to become a vampire if she dies, and she is burned by the religious ritual they try to do to her. despite mina's almost-vampirism, she remains consciously religious, and is a decidedly 'good', and human, character. renfield is a human, and yet his worship of dracula rather than god contributes to his being closer to monster than man. so, religion, and therefore behavior, is the main way the characters in dracula separate themselves from dracula

as the characters try to distinguish themselves from dracula on the basis of their christian religion and religious behavior, and also non-animalistic behavior, in direct contradiction of this, they are forced to bend their religious beliefs and act in animalistic ways. 

as for simply behavior, harker imitates dracula in order to separate himself from dracula by mimicking him crawling down the castle wall (in "lizard fashion") while trying to escape. 

as for religion, mina is a big part of this. despite mina literally being burned by the sacred wafer, she is still accepted by the men, and her connection to dracula is the reason they are able to find dracula and kill him. in their attempts to separate themselves from dracula, the characters must accept an almost-vampire who was burned by a religious ritual as human and 'good' in order to annihilate something of the devil. the lines only become more blurred between man and monster as they attempt separation.

in hannibal, i feel the main way the characters distinguish themselves from hannibal is their dedication to law enforcement. the beginning of the show makes this separation very clear: hannibal is a criminal, and the other characters are working with the fbi. of course, they are also not serial killers or (willingly) cannibals, but this is all on the basis of their morals which align with and rest heavily on the law.

as jack, will, and alana attempt to separate themselves from hannibal (because hannibal is acting illegally and is a criminal, and they are acting legally and are law enforcement), they, in direct contradiction of this, must break the law, and bend their morals.

will is the first to attempt to separate himself from hannibal because he was the first one to realize what hannibal was. in prison, his lawfulness bends when he sends matthew brown to kill hannibal. he bends (and therefore blends with hannibal) even more while trying to 'maintain his cover' to catch hannibal when he kills and mutilates randall tier and willingly engages in cannibalism with hannibal. in will's attempts in season 2 to separate himself from hannibal, he only contradicts what once distinguished him from hannibal so clearly.

jack and alana aren't driven to do this until the end of season two when they realize what hannibal is. in their desperation, they directly disregard the law embodied by kade prurnell, and jack goes to kill hannibal himself in mizumono, completely extra-legally, and alana follows. 

will, jack, and alana trying to kill hannibal extra-legally rests almost completely on their personal feelings, and not directly the law like before. this is exactly what hannibal does: kill people who he thinks deserve to die. they do this as well. will, jack, and alana are forced to imitate hannibal in order to separate themselves from hannibal.

by season three, will, jack, and alana are have all contradicted the values (the law) that once so clearly separated them from hannibal. they are barely even associated with law enforcement anymore. 

recall the clearly-cut beginning of hannibal: law enforcement vs. serial killer. by season three, the line between them is not only blurred. it is barely even there.

alana works with mason verger, 'facilitating torture and death,' completely extra-legally. jack assaults hannibal and literally almost kills him in florence with his bare hands. not to mention alana and margot killing mason verger in digestivo because hannibal said he would take the blame for it. literally doing something hannibal would do. 

it is continually said that the main point of hannibal's murders and manipulations is theater. in 3x04, alana says

"You're preparing the theater of Hannibal's death. I'm just doing my part to get him to the stage"

alana is the one preparing the theater of death now. not just hannibal. again, becoming more like him as she tries to annihilate him.

in the wrath of the lamb, will, jack, and alana (again, completely extra-legally) plan to kill both the dragon and hannibal together. 

at this point, they are completely dissociated from what once so clearly separated them from hannibal. this is plainly communicated by the reoccurring sentiment that jack, alana, and will have died in some way after mizumono:

in primavera 3x02:

"You [Will] are already dead, aren't you?"

and in digestivo 3x07

"You're dead, Dr. Bloom"

"Oh, Mason. We all are. Didn't you know?"

i don't think i need to explain how this connects to vampirism, lol.

not only they are completely disconnected from what once made them 'human/alive', but, again, they are doing what hannibal, the monster, does. they are planning to murder people who they personally think deserve death, bending their morals to allow torture, murder, etc. in their minds, they think that this is justified because of hannibal's actions, and, honestly, most people would probably agree. (and there is a whole other conversation about vigilantism to be had concerning this) but fundamentally, hannibal does the exact same thing. except his bar for 'someone who deserves death' is a lot lower.

in their attempts to destroy hannibal, they only become more like him.

"Nonetheless, the violent destruction of the vampires proves that, when turned from prey to predators, humans can be just as monstrous as the creatures they are determined to extinguish. Reason gives way to instinct; and science to sheer superstition. Deprived of their usual resources to assess and repress the monstrous menace, the characters rely on their most primitive impulses to destroy it. But, as we all know, vampires never die." (x)

i think this exchange between alana and chilton in the wrath of the lamb perfectly encapsulates this:

"You were never comfortable in your own skin, Frederick. You wouldn't be comfortable in Hannibal's."

"Are you?"

[atomicpirateperson]

so I realized that around this time of the year is already past my 1 year anniversary of being hyperfixated on Rob?? time flies

this is the timeline of how it happened according to some vague memories:

1. i happen to see some random video of The Rerun on like, YouTube I think

2. me: hmm i think that one eyed guy is giving some real gender envy– wait. oh no. its happening. he's the new Chosen One, isn't he

3. im not hyperfixated im not hyperfixated im not–

4. I AM SO FUCKING HYPERFIXATED I LOVE ROB FROM TAWOG HE MEANS EVERYTHING TO ME!!!!!!

5. rob is a major part of my life and my headspace now. i couldn't stop if I tried, because some part of my brain views him as an actual close friend, and therefore abandoning this hyperfixation would feel extremely cruel. i would never do that to him and therefore he will be my imaginary bestie/adoptive son forever. i will never grow out of it. i am perfectly okay with that

[solar-halos]

i’m gonna see you alligators later

[foulfeast]

Ohhhh i now remember why i got shy about talking abt ocs

24/7 fear that someone will tell me my ideas are cliche/stupid/bad in some other and it will hurt more bc these are my own creations and not just fun and play

[outlawtornn]

ill forever adore going through my old sketchbooks because its like going through memories i never knew i had

[reading-writing-dying]

Having a job is really cutting into my fanfic writing productivity because apparently I'm most capable of writing when I should already be in bed sleeping to prepare for a 13 hour workday the next morning

All this to say next chapter of The Other Me is written and ready to be edited over the next few days as I find time

[shastafirecracker]

THROWS MUG ON THE GROUND FLIPS THE TABLE AND THROWS THE TABLE AND COMPUTER OUT THE WINDOW

IT’S FINISHED MOTHERFUCKERRRRRR

[whoa-where-did-the-pancakes-go]

Forgot to mention that I finished my ela project that was due in November. Finally. Its 8,334 words.

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

WIP Wednesday

Subconscious (Steve’s Story)

Summary: Steddie Canon compliant/fix-it fic paired with a corresponding story in Eddie’s POV, each chapter happens in tandem with the other. No matter what he does, no matter who he is with or what is happening in the aftermath of their failed battle with Vecna – Steve Harrington can’t stop thinking about Eddie Munson. He’s even begun to see him in his dreams…

(companion to this Eddie Snippet)

((Unbeta'd snippet from Chapter 02. I wasn't going to do another entire dream sequence, but this shows the difference between the stories in comparison to Eddie's version of the same dream. So this is super duper long. Not sorry. Steve's had a Day™ so he's already in need to a dream that's not a nightmare. Luckily for him this one is just jam-packed with nostalgia. The only parts of the snippet that might not make sense are 1. Joyce Byer's bought back her house, hence the Byer's family dinners. It's covered in the first chapter. 2. There's a conversation with Robin in Steve's kitchen that takes place and is referenced a few times in Steve's inner musings. 3. There's also references to the first dream with Eddie, which I have Eddie's version in a snippet that can be found [here], but I haven't posted Steve's version as a preview yet. See tags for CW/TW.))

—

When Steve dreams, he’s usually driving.

Nightmares always begin as something else. Running, hiding, breathing so harshly his throat feels scraped raw. He feels bites, he feels punches, sharp instruments about to cut into his skin or pull his fingernails out one by one, he feels his body thrown against a wall, or something cold and flesh-like wrapped tight around his neck until he thinks he’s going to pass out. Nightmares are always full of the fear induced fleeing for his life, for the lives of the ones he cares about.

But in this dream he isn’t driving. And he isn’t running. He’s walking.

He recognizes Hawkins like he would recognize the shape of his own hand, or the feel of walking around his house knowing where every turn is and which steps on the stairs creak. It’s instinctual, looking up to see a random suburban landscape and knowing for a fact it’s how the houses are laid out Northeast of Maple Street. He knows the trailer park is just behind him, he knows that if he keeps following this road it will take him around town, past the rows of cookie-cutter houses, and into the woods where the Byers house resides. Further on the outskirts of town. If he was in his car, he could be there in 20 minutes.

But he’s walking along the empty street. His car is nowhere in sight, and oddly that feels okay. He’s not worried about it. Up ahead of him, he can see the kids messing around on their bikes, and Steve suddenly knows without a shadow of a doubt that they are going to Mrs. Byer’s house. The one she shares with Hopper, now, and with all of them on any given day of the week. The kids are taking their sweet time, jumping the curb and circling back slowly – he’s almost pleasantly surprised, thinking they are waiting for him.

Then Max speeds past him on her skateboard, and Steve forgets how to breathe for a second.

Max.

She looks over her shoulder at him, a smile escaping her despite every effort to smother it, red hair pushed back by the early evening breeze and mocking him with a tongue stuck out. Then she’s with the boys, schooling their asses on her skateboard even though they could leave her in the dust with their six speeds. They wouldn’t, though, and if Steve hadn’t already been walking he probably would have stopped at the sight. Only the momentum of one foot in front of the other keeps him moving.

He’s missed seeing her with the kids. Seeing her keeping them in line and on their toes, her presence was grounding, and the boys greet her like she had never been missing at all. Like she hasn’t spent every day of the past three months in a hospital bed, with no change and eyes closed. Lost in a dreamless sleep. (He hopes.)

No, he wouldn’t think about that now. Not with the sight in front of him. This… this was how it should be. The sun setting on Hawkins, all of them rounding themselves up and then heading to the one place they are allowed to be themselves. All parts of them, good and bad, strong and damaged. No one left behind.

“Harrington!”

That makes him stop. Steve suddenly doesn’t know how to move his feet. He turns and looks back towards the trailer park, hands in his letterman jacket pockets, and watches Eddie Munson jog up to him. Smiling, whole, as suitable to the late summer evening as anything ever has a right to be. He fits, in his ripped denim and metal band T-shirt, blues and pinks and purples of the sky making him stand out starkly.

“Munson,” he greets, smiling back and it feels more fond than it should. As if they’ve been friends for years, and not days. As if he’s always around to join them on their walk to the Byer’s place. Always around for Family Dinners.

Like he should be.

Steve teases him about it, because even in the dream it feels like Eddie has never been to those pushed together second-hand dining room tables in the backyard. Never been there to help pass food around, or fight the kids for the best hamburger patties, or chuck potato chips across the table to make his point about whatever he and the kids would argue about. Nerd stuff. Dungeons and Dragons. Steve wouldn’t know what the hell they were talking about, but he’d give anything in the world to be able to listen in. “I see you’ve decided to join us.”

“Yeah, well, I figured it was time for me to make an appearance in the land of the living,” Eddie shrugs at him, a handsome smile spread wide across his face. But his words make Steve’s insides go ice cold.

Always joking, even about his own fucking death. “That’s not funny.”

But Eddie cackles with laughter, like the madman he is, who just missed meeting his maker. “It’s a little funny. I almost died, man, let me own it.”

And God, it could be so easy. This would be the easiest conversation to have. It sounds so much like him, and Eddie is so much more vivid here than he is in the nightmares. His words are so authentic Steve isn’t even sure how his brain came up with them. ((This is a dream.)) he reminds himself. It’s only a dream, and dreams have to make some kind of sense if they are to continue. Steve doesn’t want to let go of this dream, with Max and Eddie there – where they should be. So he accepts Eddie’s easy quip, and tries to make himself believe that this is how it could be. Eddie almost died. But he didn’t. Maybe Steve had still done CPR, and maybe this time Eddie’s chest had started to move on its own, maybe he’d been able to help both Eddie and Dustin limp out of the Upside Down. Maybe he’d gotten the other man to a hospital.

Maybe Eddie Munson could have lived.

Maybe, instead of being the government’s scapegoat, they could have created a bullshit cover story like they had when Will ‘came back from the dead’, and he’d still be living in that shitty trailer park with his Uncle and bitching about trying to pass finals with Robin this year. Maybe this year could have been his year to graduate.

Maybe, just maybe… it could have all been so different.

They walk forever, it feels like. But Steve could have lived inside that moment for the rest of his days. He and Eddie talk shit about everything and nothing, the kids are up ahead but never so far that he can’t see them. Their voices trailing back down the street, Max’s laughter louder than all the rest. He doesn’t even remember the last time she laughed in the past year. Eddie is smiling at him, teasing him, pulls out a joint and lights it for Steve to take the first hit. Leaning in close and not caring about personal space in the slightest. It’s so easy. It’s so comfortable. It’s the best day Steve has had in weeks.

“So where are we going, again?” Eddie asks after what feels like hours. Steve has never thought of someone as such a weirdo in an affectionate way until a couple years ago. Dustin, Robin – of course, but Eddie has it in Spades. He owns it to the point that Steve can’t help but lean into it. Can’t help but think that only Eddie would walk for blocks and blocks with him without even asking where he was off to. Just along for the ride. Even though this particular evening was something that Steve had been wanting Eddie to be a part of for a long, long time.

Family Dinner. Mrs. Byer’s house; sweet little Mrs. Byer’s who barely came up to his shoulder and had more strength in her pinkie finger than half this damn town. She welcomes in everyone her boys bring home with open arms and big sympathetic eyes and an air about her that makes Steve think she must have been cool as fuck in high school. And the way she bossed Hopper around was a sight to see. They argued like an old married couple, even though there is some on-going inside joke about an unfulfilled date at that Italian place downtown. (Mostly because it’s not even there anymore, lost to the Upside Down. Steve had taken a few girls there back when his parents were funding his weekend excursions, it wasn’t cheap. And was not re-opening any time soon. So instead the two made spaghetti all the time and talked about Enzos like it had been a person they both knew.)

Eddie flips out when Steve mentions Hopper will be there, scrambling to put out the blunt and spitting saliva on the sidewalk like they would be able to smell it on his breath instead of all over his clothes and long hair. “You could have warned me! Fucking Hopper.” He says it with a smile, and Steve notices he doesn’t say ‘Officer Hopper’ or even ‘Chief Hopper’. Like he knew him before all of this.

“He’s not a cop, anymore,” Steve laughs, pausing their walk to let his hands hover near Eddie’s shoulder. The dork is putting the blunt out on the bottom of his high-tops and is not coordinated in the slightest to do so.

“Yeah but he’s busted my ass far too many times for me to show up at his HOUSE reeking of the devil’s lettuce,” Eddie says so matter-of-factly, and it sounds so genuine that Steve busts up laughing. His voice echoes down the street with it, Eddie watching him do so with a grin that’s a little more soft around the edges. “No joking, he would drag my ass to the back of his cruiser and scare the hell out of me driving past the police station. But he always took me home to Wayne, never booked me.”

“I get the feeling Hop never really booked a lot of us for things he should have,” Steve tells him, still laughing under his breath like he has the giggles, the vibration of them caught up in his chest and spilling out his mouth every few words. “He used to break up my house parties when I threw them, but it was always like… right at 10:00 at night. He let us have our fun, but never let it get out of hand.”

“No shit! I always thought those parties were short,” Eddie grins, glancing out into the night where the kids were still circling their bikes just out of ear shot. “In case you were too busy doing keg stands by the pool back then, I was the dealer set up in your kitchen selling blunts and baggies off to any passerby with a couple bucks on them.”

“Kinda hard to see when you’re upside down and chugging beer like oxygen,” Steve points out, but says it like an apology. He’d never known where the weed came from at his parties. It would just appeared out of thin air and in his hands like magic. Eddie nods along, understanding and not surprised. He’s not exactly a forgettable person, but the few times they’ve talked he always seems to think that he blends into the background. That it’s expected that Steve wouldn’t remember him at his house parties. The pang of guilt Steve feels is short lived, because Eddie glances at him with that twist of a smirk that should not be as handsome as it is.

“I also ate all your Oreos.”

“That was you?” Steve exclaims.

“Every time,” Eddie grins that shit-eating grin of his, not looking the least bit sorry. “I thought you were keeping them stocked for me! Your reputation as a host preceded you.”

“I hid them on the top shelf, by the wine glasses!”

“And I was set up in that little nook right by that cabinet, it was like my name was on them!” Eddie gestures widely as he speaks, moving his hands constantly in grand gestures that make it really hard for Steve to look away. He’d have to ask Robin if she’s ever seen Eddie in drama, he seems like he’d be good at it.

He pictures where Robin had been sitting in his kitchen just that morning, and realizes that’s the nook that Eddie was talking about. So it’s really easy for Steve to imagine Eddie there, instead, sitting on the counter with his container of oreos and his old-school metal lunch box full of blunts, dealing when the party was in full-swing. Holding court and maybe even telling people to back off if they asked for a cookie, pushing them back with his feet and doing that thing where he pretends to be more scary than he is.

“You’re something else, Munson,” he chides with no bite whatsoever. Steve hasn’t stopped smiling the whole walk, something like affection swelling up warmly inside him, and it probably has nothing to do with the weed. But it’s an easy thing to blame it all on.

The evening shifts not long after that; the rows and rows of suburban houses melt into trees that tower and stretch off into the distance, and the winding road comes to an end at the Byer’s place. It is a little one-story house half buried in leaves from the surrounding forest, but Hopper and Joyce have been hard at work getting it back into shape after the property being deserted for so long. It is a welcome sight, far more welcome than his own home has ever been; and Steve is so lost in the little details of it that he doesn’t realize Eddie isn’t walking next to him anymore.

“So this is your dream, is it?”

An ice cold sensation creeps into his chest, forcing Steve to stop and turn to look at Eddie. A good 15 feet back, hands in his jacket pockets, looking at the house like it’s something he’s not allowed to have. But it’s his words that strike to the heart of Steve’s confusion. ((Your dream.)) That’s what he said. But how could he possibly know…

“This. This is what we fought for?” Eddie asks, nodding to the house, the crowded driveway full of cars and bikes and the sounds of too many teenagers in the backyard (in the best of ways, not like Steve used to hear at his own home not so long ago). “No one is dead. Everyone is here. Family dinners.” It’s as if he’s reading Steve’s mind, because yes, yes that is what he wants. This is everything that they shouldn’t have, and can't seem to keep, no matter how hard they try to hold on to it – and he just wishes they could. That they didn’t have to try so hard to be happy.

“Yeah, Munson. This is it.” This is everything he’s ever wanted.

It’s the kind of evening dreams are made of, apparently. The watercolor sky gives way to darkness in a manner that doesn’t make his heart thump faster in fear. Stars poking through the inky indigo above them. Eddie is wide-eyed and nervous, but he’s here and whole and God that’s all Steve wanted. That’s all he’s wanted for weeks. Some days it feels like it’s eating him alive.

“...are you sure I should come in? I mean.” He gestures to himself, as if there’s something wrong with him on principle. Ripped skinny jeans and studded black leather belts, long hair and tattoos. Steve doesn’t think he’s felt this personally offended on someone else’s behalf in a long time. What kind of nonsense was Eddie on about now? Walking all the way here and not coming inside?

“Of course you should come in.”

He might have spoken a little more harshly than he intended, because Eddie’s gaze is avoiding him again. Steve can almost physically see the guy recoil and retreat into his natural defense mechanism. Make it a joke, over-exaggeration and all. He croons at Steve like the girls in high school used to, twisting a strand of hair in front of his mouth and swaying a little on the spot, ridiculous and owning it – asking if Steve would really miss him if he wasn’t there for dinner.

As if Steve hasn’t missed his stupid face every single day.

Yes, yes he fucking misses him. Steve can feel the space in the world that Eddie used to occupy, as if it was torn away violently and is still trying to heal.

He doesn’t know why Eddie doesn’t seem to understand that.

((This is a dream.))

And Steve is tired of not being able to say the words that have been screaming inside his head for months.

“It’s not right,” he grits out, shaking his head and he’s not mad at Eddie. But he can’t look away from him and he’s not entirely sure he’s controlling the expression on his face very well. “If you’re not here – with us. With me.”

Eddie’s not moving and hasn’t blinked, but his chest is still moving and he’s breathing a little heavier. Way to go, Harrington. Elaborate, dumbass. (Why does his inner voice always sound like Robin?)

“You…” fuck it all, he can’t stand to not talk about it anymore. “You died, Eddie. You actually died down there.” He’s moving towards Eddie, and thanks whatever lucky stars are making themselves known above them that Eddie isn’t backing up as he does. “...I did CPR on you forever trying to bring you back.”

He has no idea how long it really was. Chest compressions, counting out loud with every push, tilting Eddie’s head back just the right angle so when he pressed his mouth to Eddie’s blood-stained lips he could breathe air into his lungs and not his stomach. He was certified, but he’d never done it on a living person before, and Steve knows he had been a panicked mess. Doing chest compressions so hard he had been scared he was going to break one of Eddie’s ribs. But he did the maneuvers again, and again, and again with Dustin sobbing next to him and the others screaming at them through the radio that the gate was closing. Steve had never felt so hopeless as he had in that moment – because Eddie never drew another breath, and his dark eyes stared at nothing, and Steve wanted to curl up on the ground and cry but he couldn’t because Dustin wasn’t able to walk out of there on his own. He and Dustin never talked about it, but the kid had been near hysterical about not wanting to leave Eddie there on the ground, and really the only reason they made it out at all was because Steve had picked Dustin up and carried him out kicking and screaming – and also because Dustin stopped fighting him when he saw that Steve was crying, too.

He hates thinking about that night. It always comes back to him in vivid technicolor, but right now it’s… it’s not so bad, because Eddie looks genuinely shocked by Steve’s admission.

“You did?” he murmurs. And Steve does his best to not be offended, again. Did Eddie really think that they would just leave him for dead without doing absolutely everything they could to try and get him out of there? Did he think they wouldn’t try to save him?

Steve’s heart hurt as it beat hard against his ribs.

“Yeah, I did.” The dream is pressing in on him, it’s threatening to break apart – he can almost feel himself waking up. So he smiles at Eddie, and pretends just a little harder. Plays along. “Thank God, right?”

Because right now Eddie is still in front of him, so if Steve has to play the part to keep him there then he will. Steve can try and believe that all that CPR training hadn’t been for nothing, that he hadn’t failed both Eddie and Dustin in that field. That everyone had made it home.

Eddie holds up his hand, mind whirling behind his big dark eyes, and the grandiose gestures soothe Steve’s very being.

“You, gave me mouth-to-mouth.”

Well, when he puts it like that. Steve shrugs, plays it off as nothing strange. He was certified a couple times over. Lifeguard, Captain of Hawkins High Swim Team two years running. He just hopes the heat flushing up his neck doesn’t show on his face. Eddie doesn’t seem to be paying much attention, anyway, his awe-struck expression melting into disbelief as he cards his ringed fingers through his hair.

“Jesus Christ, Steve Harrington gave me the kiss of life and I wasn’t even awake to appreciate it.” Steve rolls his eyes at Eddie’s statement, rolls them so hard he’s surprised he doesn’t pull something. Like the novelty of ‘King Steve Harrington’ still held any weight anywhere in this fucking town. “My poor little gay heart, high school me would be devastated.”

“You’re still in High School,” Steve tells him on reflex, Eddie flipping him the bird, and the give-and-take of it all is so instinctual that Steve doesn’t really let anything process in real time. Eddie’s commentary is always so flippant and quick that it’s easy to not take it seriously. But he did hear Eddie, he heard every word, and very suddenly Steve feels like he’s back on the Starcourt bathroom floor with Robin and his world has tilted on it’s axis a bit.

My little gay heart

Gay.

Wait. Did he know about Robin? Did he know Steve knew about Robin, is that why he said it?

((Why is he thinking about Robin right now?))

“Wait – what did you just say?” Steve manages to get the words out, although his brain feels like it’s breaking apart a little bit.

And Eddie looks like he’s in the same boat, because he freezes and stares so wide-eyed at him that Steve worries for a second that they just broke the damn dream. Like a traveling carnival ride. He can’t even open his mouth to say Eddie’s name, or backtrack and tell him it’s cool, because like a flip of a lightswitch suddenly Eddie is moving and talking and his whole demeanor is somehow different than before.

“And that’s enough of this round of ‘Eddie Munson Opens His Big Fat Mouth’,” he laments, crossing the distance between them in seconds. His hands are on Steve’s shoulders, he’s so close Steve can smell the cigarette smoke and lingering marijuana and something that must be Eddie’s aftershave or shampoo. Steve about trips over his feet as Eddie pushes him backward, turns him, and traps him against the side panels of the BMW. Realistically, Steve should have pushed him back when it happened – too many nights thinking about the Russians man-handling him or Billy Hargrove beating in his face have made him skittish and defensive, but this was Eddie and how in the fuck did his brain know not to shove him away? He's not even panicking, not really.

When Eddie pushes him up against his own car, Steve doesn’t really think about anything at all… except the other guy’s hands. On his shoulders, steering him, like he’s done it before –

((Because he has.))

”C’mon Harrington. Go back to sleep.” "Harrington’s got her, don’t ya Big Boy?” ”Now you’re talking nonsense. Time for bed, big guy.” ”Just – just go back to sleep, Harrington…”

”You’ll forget all about this in the morning.”

Steve’s mind focuses, then, a metaphorical pair of binoculars adjusting inch by inch until the vision becomes clear. But he doesn’t focus fast enough for Eddie, who smiles in his face (standing so close), winks at him, and taps his cheek twice. The cold bite of those rings on Steve’s skin nearly jostles him into action. His hands were braced against his car to stay upright, now held tight to Eddie’s vest. The one he’d leant him, all those months ago. The one in Steve’s room, right now, that he can’t get rid of.

“Until next time, Harrington.”

((Next time? When was the first time?))

Wait…

He remembers, now.

—

Steve opens his eyes.

—

tbc

—

Series Snippets:

- Dreamwalker (Eddie’s Story) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

- Subconscious (Steve’s Story) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

[jtbb]

google am i on the aro spectrum or am i just a teenager

[itsalwaysdark]

caught myself being nostalgic for that damn podcast again. we need to kill connor !

[anemoiashifts]

why you should get off social media if you want to shift.

before you scroll away, i want to challenge all of you to read all of this. this is one of my longest blog posts ive ever made with over 1,000 words. if you can or can’t make it through the whole post, please let me know how far you’ve gotten in the comments below. you’ll get a surprise at the end 🥳 !

social media isn’t an inherently bad thing. however, outside & inside of the shifting community social media (specially tiktok) has been shown to effect our attention span. this shows in my comment sections on my longer tumblr posts that i also share on tiktok, such as this one, when people say things like “im not reading all of that” or “can someone summarize” also “what method should i use” and “why am i not shifting”.

let’s start with the basics of shifting. shifting attempts need some kind of focus; an affirmation, a visualization, some sort of task like counting. if you’re someone who struggles to focus, you will struggle to learn how to meditate or any hobby or task you’re tying to accomplish. all shifting methods are is a meditation. while no, you don’t need a method, I would make the argument learning how to meditate & focus your attention to what you are trying to manifest is an important part of shifting. if social media creates an instant dopamine reward without little effort, the appeal of shifting seems less. this is why i think a lot of people actually like thinking about shifting & creating content for it rather then doing it — because trying to shift requires some level of work without instant reward even if it’s as simple as laying down & setting intention.

if you try to shift & you wake up in your cr still, that isn’t as exciting when comparing it to the idea of shifting. rather, if you post an edit or a video about your dr you will receive a dopamine hit through video interaction (comments, likes, how social media platforms are set up in general). even maladaptive daydreaming can fall into this category to some. the interest in attempting to shift dies because we feel like we aren’t gaining anything from it when that’s not true. when laying down & attempting to shift, we are meditating & training the brain to focus on what we desire most: we’re correcting our attention span.

social media destroys the ability to focus & what we focus on & give our attention to allows room for that desire to grow, to become reality. if we’re always so overwhelmed with information & have so much to stress about, it’s important to recognize what we consume & how it effects our mood & mental health & how it can sometimes delay our manifestations. im not saying you have to be positive all the time, but we’re exposed to so much that it’s important to check in with yourself every once in a while. this can be where shifting content comes into play vs non shifting content. think demotivation, you don’t look for it, it just appears. & how many times have you opened tiktok to look something up to only be distracted by a completely unrelated video that automatically started playing ?

what i mean is people are telling you what shifting is, what works for them (which you could register subconsciously & believe that’s a step by step guide), rather then self discovery. people are telling you what shifting is, how to do it, what to think, what to script, what method you need to do, even if they say “this may not apply to everyone” because of how it’s being presented & spoken about. the said popularity of a method or definition may also come into play & feeling like something has to be right or work because other people align with it. its like math class, the teacher shows you one way to solve a problem then says “your allowed to use your own methods” & shows you one example of it then goes back to using the original method in class that you don’t understand.

another reason is opinions. when being shown so many people speaking on shifting & their thoughts it can be overwhelming. it’s a great thing so many people are willing to talk about their experiences in their desired reality or want to share their personal breakthroughs & opinions on what shifting is, it can be confusing. while everything i just listed is well intended, leaning about shifting through places like tiktok & not venturing out & doing your own research — or just searching methods online & trying it yourself while going in blind — it takes away self discovery.

so, how do we learn about shifting ?

when i say get off of social media, i don’t exactly mean all social media. yes, all of these things happen across the internet but the difference with tiktok is that the fyp isn’t so prominent. this of course also applies to other feeds that are generated, but a lot of the shifting community is ok tiktok so im using the most known example. it’s important to search & decide what information you consume & seek out rather then being told something without stopping to think for yourself. you want the chance to be able to create your own thoughts. your own unique thoughts you have about things make them personal & your own beliefs become stronger when you realize things on your own. it’s more satisfying that way.

places like reddit & searching for questions you specifically have so you don’t have ten more questions shoved in your that you didn’t have before that cause you added worry or unnecessary fear is helpful to keep in mind.

there is room for grey area. not everything needs to be black & white. there should be no consciousness vs multiverse theories because two things can both be true at once. Ike thing doesn’t have to be against something, you don’t have time pick a side. it’s all theory & hypothetical. it’s okay that we 100% don’t know (& will probably never know) what shifting truly is. not everything needs to be discovered to preform it “correctly”. you don’t need to be a master at painting to paint, you don’t need to know how paint brushes are crafted or how canvas is stretched to preform, anyone can sit & learn as they create their first & second & tenth piece. even people who have painted & sold their artwork for millions, don’t know the great’s techniques. they know pieces of them & take what works & discards what doesn’t serve them.

this post isnt to negate any of the good social media has done or sound like my mom & preaching about how social media destroys your brain…but i think we should be mindful of what we consume & how it makes us feel & if we’re speaking for ourselves or parroting others words. there are so many great people & advice out there & im not trying to take away from that. i just think taking a moment to stop & digest what we’re seeing is healthy. this blog post has been a long time coming but i know a lot of people wouldn’t want to hear it. i can promise you, you are more addicted then you think — myself included. i just don’t wake you guys to look back in 10 years & have spent more then half of that looking at a screen when there’s so much life to be lived. i don’t want social media to take away from what we are all here for which when we come down to it is living. shifting is literally wanting to experience life & i can’t help but find it ironic that this is the opposite of everything we wish to accomplish through this practice.

please take care of yourselves. much love.

surprise :) congrats you made it ! here’s your digital slice of cake ! 🍰

[medullamindset]

STEB HEADCANONS :>

Uhhhm YEAH a few headcanons ive collected since act 3 came out in november 😸 enjoy Stebnation, or dont idk

This is very short and boring but its easier to write him in an actual scenario so TRUST IN ME MY UPCOMING STUFF WILL BE BETTER 😿

Content warnings: Established relationship w Reader, miiiild mention of knifeplay but its easily looked past. My opinion on his race.

NSFW marked this pink!

• He cannot be any older than 30. I'd bet hes like 23-27. Idk how old u have to be to be a field medic/enforcer??

• Hes around 6'4.. Tall guy. ♥︎‿♥︎

• His frill thingies seem to lie flat to his face with "down" emotions, such as shame/guilt and sadness. But they point straight out with more intense emotions, like suspense, anger, exitement, worry. I love the way they flutter sometimes, as a subtle reaction. Like when they saw the Zaunites walking over the bridge to aid in the war, his frills were like "oh, wow.."

But also how they shot straight out with suspense when Ambessa wanted Caitlyn to b commander and everyone was banging their chests and stuff.

• I'd like to imagine his frills flutter a few times in a row when he orgasms, like the shockwaves of pleasure, but also post-orgasm. Maybe they go hand in hand with his nervous system kinda?

• His tip is the same color as his eyelids. His nails seem to be beige too.

• He CAN talk he just chooses not to if he feels he doesnt need to. Short sentences if he has to, small nods and shakes of his head, LOOKS. his face is VERY expressive, but thats more of a fact than a hc. body language is a key communication of his.

• Hes def always been the quiet type, ever since he was six he hasn't been big on speaking.

But sometimes you cheat the system.. Having your back turned to him when you ask him a question just so you can hear his voice, even just to get a little "mhm" from him <3

• On the rare occasion that he does speak his voice is kinda hoarse and gravelly from lack of use UGHHHH *squirts everywhere*

• hes a bit of a "bland" person, hes not boring.. Just a very simple man. He reads practically anything, carries your bags when you're out shopping, he literally just goes wherever you wanna go. He hangs over your shoulders when you do ur makeup, cooks breakfast most mornings, cleans when he feels its needed cuz he doesn't like messes, he'll have music on in the background tho and it's usually one of your vinyls that's playing, makes him feel closer to you <3

Simple things man. deeply emotional and caring too. Hes so kind and eager to help ugh MY SHAYLAA.

• hes a bit socially awkward, he doesnt have social anxiety, hes just kinda stiff and quiet around people.

• what the fuck does he do all day, really?

• I feel like he'd like dancing with his lover but he thinks hes bad at it so hes a bit awkward <333 put his hands around ur waist for him tho and he'd turn into even more speechless mush, everytime.

• Has a gummy smile thats really evident when he laughs so he tries not too, might let a grin slip in private tho c: and close mouthed chuckling/snickers.

• Loves being carressed, hold his face in your hands and trace his cheekbones with ur thumbs? FOLDS. Running your fingers up and down the fins at the back of his head when his face is in your neck? PUTTY.

• Speaking of fins, they continue down to to his lower back, shorter at the bottom but longest between his shoulderblades. He also has darker spots(scales?) Like the other fishfolk in Arcane on his outer arms and thighs. See this post of mine for a ref :)

• he drinks alot of water, like ALOT. his throat get dry easily cuz hes.. Yk, fish.. Atleast half-fish. He'll remind his partner to do the same, no matter your race cuz its good for u, he'll nudge u with a glass in hand and a small tug at his lips, or simply just leave it beside u as a silent reminder.

• Loves holding hands. like, he just LOVES it. He'll act nonchalant abt it but on the inside his heart is just blossoming 💗

Like imagine you're at a café or a bar or a diner WHATEVER and ur just sitting infront of him yapping abt ur day or smth ur planning while holding his hand over the table, and he'll just be buzzing with love, rubbing your soft skin with his thumb, feeling lucky his blush doesnt show (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)

• ABSOLUTELY ADORES kisses. He just finds them so sweet and intimate (cuz they are. But i mean like, he doesn't ever NOT think about it after kissing you, hes always locked on target y'know, he only sees you. He only feels you when kissing your lips, he'll kiss u like its the end of the world.. even if hes just getting up to go to the bathroom or something.)

• he just loves you so much, please kiss him, everywhere. Theres not a single spot of him you could kiss that wouldn't make him shiver (the good way).

• Steb is not much for hardcore kinks in bed. He doesnt "fuck", he makes love. In his eyes there truly isnt any purer form of intimacy than sharing something like that, giving away a piece of yourself to this person, your souls spiritually intertwined and yadiyadayada (it's true tho)

• He will go harder if you ask him to, hes not afraid to make you scream with pleasure. Also, bite him and hes a goner. Omg if hes like treating u so nicely in the sack you gotta bite down on something to contain yourself, pls let it be his shoulder, please leave pretty imprints of you canines all over his neck and chest. And hickeys too HNNGHH

Makes him groan so deliciously. Hips snapping into yours just a liiiittle more harshly than intended.

He'll bite you back carnally if you'll let him, Steb gets so lost in it sometimes..

• Hes open to experimentation tho, like if theres something you reallyreallyreally wanna try he'll be like 'euuughgghggggrhggh okay yk what fine', as long as he doesn't have to hurt you, not too much anyway. The idea of inflicting pain-pain on the person he loves makes him queasy.

• But if hes really fucking horny at some point, watching you take the front seat and play around w his gills, scratch at his chest, put a hand around his neck or.. Idk drag a knife gently across his skin while topping he'll literally whine, digging his dull nails into your sides, holding on for dear life.

• He loves being called petnames. Serious and silly ones. His favorites have gotta be Love, Darling, Baby and pretty boy.. All the sappy stuff. One time you called him 'Gorgeous' and his frills shot straight out for a solid three seconds.. If he already didn't speak, he'd be speechless then. CUZ HES A GORGEOUS MAN.

Or that one time you called him 'fishface' and he just slumped in defeat when he heard you giggle, knowing that one was gonna stick around.

You'll enter the kitchen where hes making something to eat and just go "Hey, Fishface! So--!" Continuing to yap and he just rolls his eyes with a lopsided, lovesick grin u cant see from behind him. From anybody else it'd piss him off, but it's you, So he lets it slide.

• he has the warmest and weirdly softest fuckin hands ever. They're never clammy or sticky, just nice and toasty, perfect.

• is the type to grab your hands in the winter and rub them if theyre cold, trying to transfer his warmth over, even if hes also freezing. breathing hotly onto them.

• speaking of winter he probably HATES IT. He gets SO cold SO easy, hes shaking in his boots fr. A frozen fishstick fr. Like jesus. But the palms of his hands stay warm for some reason..

adding to that hes def a sweater fiend.. He LOVES knitted sweaters and hoodies and TURTLENECKS. HE'D LOOK SO GOOD IN A TURTLENECK. TELL ME IM WRONG. LIKE A BIG, FAT, KNITTED ONE THAT GOES UP TO HIS JAW. Even better if you knit/crocheted them for him <33

• I headcanon that his dad is a human and his mom is a fish person cuz he has hair and rounded teeth which other fishfolk we see don't. We don't see any other fishfolk from piltover tho.. So maybe hes just slapped on a wig, peel-off eyebrows and filed his teeth down (which is INSANELY painful btw) to look "socially acceptable". I HEAVILY doubt that, when i rascism like that ever shown in Arcane, Piltover specifically? 🤔 Im not even gonna get into that whole Vastaya thing cuz i dont know enough.. I heard they can decide how many animal features they show as they please and that they're like deeply connected to magic and live really long.. But that isn't mentioned or even nodded to in Arcane so im just gonna pretend that doesnt exist lol sorry

• but ya he adopted alot of his moms fishy features but also human-ish hair and teeth from his dad.

•speaking of his parents, i do feel like Steb was raised kinda strictly? Idk i just feel like his parents would be very uptight and that stuck with him all the way into adulthood, he stands super upright and is well proper while on the job because thats just what hes been taught.

hes alot more relaxed at home tho, where he knows he doesn't have to be or look presentable for anyone, especially not you. he knows you'll love him even while standing by the fridge in pj's, with a fist full of grated cheese ready to be devoured at circa 2 AM.

• He was raised in a small village on the outskirts, right beside the ocean. Hence he still adores it and loves to go swimming with you, reminds him of his childhood yk c:

• He kinda gives only child vibes to me? Idk the thought of him with an older sibling is kinda cute tho,, i imagine they'd be like complete opposites. They hardly see eachother,, I don't feel like his family lives in Piltover. He had a "Mom, Dad.. I'm 18 now..! I'm moving to the big city. And there is nothing you can do to stop me." Moment, exept in a less verbal way maybe, moving to the city of progress and begining medical and tactical training, to help people. On both sides.

• Hes really good at origami, sometimes when hes at work and droning at his desk with nothing better to do he'll just grab a random paper and fold a little swan together. You've found multiple critters like that scattered around the house, some with faces drawn on, just two inky dots and a derpy smile like this : )

Once he made one of your favorite animal and left it on your nightstand before heading to work, you picked it up and examined it, smile growing even wider when you found the hidden lovenote that was written on it <3

It's now glued neatly into your shared scrapbook/journal along with many more, surrounded by dried flowers and red hearts <33

Uhhhhhhhhhhhrghhhhhhhhhh yeah ❗️🚮 i just debated wether or not this is even worth posting for like twenty minutes.

Pls dont bash me for my opinions now *gulp*

Also heres a lil reminder that im taking requests 💗💗 i love writing i just never have good or original ideas :'o(

[arengnera]

@oz-gauze oooooh boy. Okay so

Tl;dr: they're exes because of the worst botched hiest/ghosting breakup and even though they both need closure they need such fundamentally different forms of it that nothing could ever repair anything they had.

Unskippable cut scene under the break

Let's start with Marshall Kidd. He's a kitsune outlaw in the main stretch of my campaign. (imagine a western set on a huge super structure which was left desolate by an apocalypse and only recently breached by human life again. Space western but steampunk level tech.)

This man is reserved and enigmatic and desperate. He runs the largest gang on The Ring and is the main force of structure in the desert. His main racket is getting protection money and supplies out of homesteaders in exchange for protection from other gangs and roaming monsters, and absolutely brutalizing the crown guard (fantasy British empire) any time they step out of civilization.

The players soon come to figure out that he's got a bit of a curse situation. Well get back to this later but the main thing to know is that he cannot make a promise without immediate and painful consequences if he breaks it. (This curse but with some more damage and spice suited to his level). It also becomes apperent that he's holding this gang together because of a promise he's already made.

This promise isn't nessicarily important to this story, but it is to the only other person who knows about his curse. A much worse outlaw who's been using it as leverage to make Kidd do what he wants. His name is Reeves his whole deal isn't that important just remember that we hate him.

From this it becomes increasingly obvious that Kidd is where he's at because he's a coward who can't stick to his word. He is sure that as soon as Reeves returns to the material plane he's a dead man no matter how the cards fall. Another important quirk they learn is that he's a deeply religious man. He's a sorcerer from a divine bloodline, and follows two gods, Pharasma (our lady of graves), and Daikitsu (the matron God of kitsune). As such he's deeply committed to putting every person he kills to proper rest, and purging the undead when he can. To the point where he carries a shovel with him everywhere he goes. He also has 0 tolerance for anyone who destroys or defaces farmland.

The players get an npc friend to find a few leads on who Kidd could have been before he became an outlaw, as the Ring has only been accessible for 20 years, and he is far older than that.

Okay put a pin in all of that because it's time to talk about Ford Darkstone.

At this point in the campaign, the players are forced to leave The Ring and take the space train to a little O'Neil cylinder about twice the size of New York city which houses 99% of this star system's population. Gremtol, it's a packed industrial cluster fuck ran by a monarchy (that only now really wants a piece of the ring now that people trying to escape them have proven its worth something.)

Ford is the best cat burglar in a little thieves union known as The Clockwork Hands. They're a small gang who have been plauged by bad luck for ages, but are on the mend, and have mostly survived by only taking jobs that won't get them properly noticed by The Crown. He's not in charge, but he's not happy with the new leader who inserted herself as an outsider and probably murdered the last leader. The players also want her dead for personal backstory reasons so they strike an allegiance with Ford. Its easy enough to do, he's a good man. Sure he lives in an old noble woman's house without her knowledge, but he also used her funds to send one of the other gang members through nursing school to be a live in nurse for her. Yes he might have murdered a man to cut him out of her will but that rich kid wasn't taking care of his ailing aunt anyway.

I'm not sure where to put this in such a condensed version, but The Clockwork Hands run a drag bar that's like, super haunted. Players didn't figure it out right away, but it's because it's built on an old graveyard, filled mostly with Kitsune. Over 100 years old, burying the dead became an antiquated practice long ago since the city is so tightly packed. By all practical standpoints that ground was going to waste. It's been so long that no one really remembers what's under there anymore.

Anyway the players get to talking with Ford, and bring up one of the names they were given as a lead to Kidds past identity. A man named Hitoshi who used to run with the clockwork hands 20 years ago.

Ford knows him. He knew him very well. They had something once. Hitoshi had been the one to help set up the hiest on the Royal Arcane Academy's museum gallery. They'd assembled a team, 5 of the best people in the gang. Ford hadn't been part of them, he'd wanted to but they'd chosen a different lockpick. Ford's task was to be a distraction, run a small hiest in some offices badly enough to draw security to the other side of campus and then disappear. But of course, no one showed up. He'd tripped through several alarm spells on purpose, been louder than he should have but he went unbothered.

Later he found out why. They'd been set up. Most of the team died, one of then was captured and later executed, but the only person who'd gone unaccounted for was Hitoshi. He'd just disappeared. The gang had to lay low after that for years, but Ford could never rationalize why they'd been betrayed like that. There were too many pieces missing. He thought he'd known Hitoshi. They'd been something. Lover was too strong of a word, but friend wasn't nearly strong enough.

So the players go back to the Ring. Reeves shows his ugly mug again, kills the undead sheriff (again) almost kills them, Kidd turns on him, and when the dust settles and it becomes very clear that the only reason Kidd isn't dead is because of the players intervention (only suffering pretty badly from breaking 3 promises) they bully more of the truth out of him.

He's quite a bit older than the train line to The Ring. 120, give or take. He grew up on Gremtol, where his family cared for a shrine to Daikitsu overlooking a graveyard. At this point, the burying of dead was falling out of fashion. Most of his family succumbed to a plauge, and by the time he was 17, it was just him and his mother, caring for an antiquated graveyard in a city that was rapidly outgrowing them.

At the time, clockwork hadn't yet reached the peak it is at today, and there existed a thieves guild by the monicure the Silver Hands. And they wanted the land. They had an inn to build, booze to sell and a brothel to run, just no where to put it. And so, when they found the mostly empty grave plot, ran by just a widow and her son, it was simple.

They killed her, and framed her son for the murder. With a couple greesed palms he was arrested and without enough gold to pay for a defense team, and a few false witnesses, he was behind bars within the year. Then it was a simple task of intimidating other auction goers, buying the land, and constructing.

Kidd (not his name at the time but if I use every name he's ever gone by this will be incomprehensible) was only imprisoned for a few years. It didn't take long for the need for revenge to consume him almost completely. He broke out, changed his name, and burned the first bar to the ground. It didn't matter they rebuilt. And so began what would be his life for the next 80 years.

He would change his name, integrate himself into the guild, then make sure they never prospered again. It started off small, but eventually he knew he would kill the man who masterminded his misery. The whole time he tried to satiate the ghost of his mother who still roamed the place, unable to move on. But he needed her remains, which had been cremated and sent to the newly built necropolis. It was formidable and warded heavily against grave robbers and necromancers. Perhaps if he wasn't wanted under his birth name he may have been able to do it legally. But every attempt he made over the following decades was a resounding failure that he barely escaped with his life.

And so Kidd became The Hand's curse. They made the slow transition to clockwork, and eventually started requiring amputation of the right hand to be replaced with the prosthetic. An attempt to rat out whatever mole was plaguing them. But Kidd was patient and singularly driven. Eventually he managed it. Their old leader died, but not before living almost a complete life where he managed to cause even more destruction. He'd been a powerful man and by the time Kidd was strong enough to face him, he was already practicly on his deathbed. By the time he managed it, old age was only a few steps behind the poison he'd used.

And so with his task complete, it didn't matter. He'd still failed to put that ghost to rest no matter how many times he placated her. With his purpose failed, he did the only thing he'd known for years. Continued to sabotage the Hands. Revenge wasn't fulfilling, but it was all he knew.

Then, he met Ford. No different from many of the people who find themselves in a life of crime, except for perhaps his dedication to gentleness. He didn't catch feelings on purpose, and when he did, he panicked. He resolved to expunge the Clockwork Hands entirely, set them up for a failure big enough for The Crown to remove them completely.

It didn't work. Nearly everyone who he got killed had been his friend. One of them had been a psychic. And with her last dying thoughts she saw through him. Saw that he'd worn nothing but masks for years and had said nothing but lies. And with her last breaths she cursed him. That he may never break an oath again, that he could never hide his kitsune nature, that until he was an honest man he could never find peace.

He fled to The Ring. A newly opened frontier where none of the ghosts of his past could find him. He had a contact, Reeves. A fence who was planning a similar move. A thaumatuge who could smell his fresh curse form a mile away. He'd promised he'd come back for his crew, and it was his first broken promise. Vowing that he owed Reeves his life for helping him to regenerate his missing hand locked him entirely into another gang, and another mask.

By the end of the full confrontation with Reeves, he was a mess, covered in the weeping open wounds of broken promises, but also at the most honest he's been for nearly a century.

The players promised him to help him find his mother's remains, so he could send her on to Pharasma for judgement and close that chapter of his life completely. But they also asked him to set things right with Ford.

More than anything else, Ford needs an explanation. He needs closure on why someone he thought he knew could turn on him so completely. He's a logical man, and a good judge of character, and the one person he could never understand still haunts him.

More than anything else, Kidd needs to be seen. To be understood as a full person that he's never been able to be because he's only ever worn a rotating facade of masks. He's carried a little tin type of the only person he's ever maybe loved for 20 years, knowing that that man never really knew him. Because no one has ever really known him.

So how could they reconcile? The man Ford love never existed. How could he possibly forgive Kidd, who really did stab them all in the back and leave them to die. How could Kidd, after all that time, ask Ford to get to know a totally different man, and expect to be forgiven for what he's done? He set out for revenge and since then hasn't stopped digging graves. In his own mind, Ford is already in one of them.

For deserves better. He deserves closure and to move on. To fully bury the only loose end he hasn't been able to tie up.

Kidd deserves nothing. He cannot expect forgiveness or kindness for the amount of carnage he has left behind him for a blood debt so old it should have been fully burried long ago. How could he ask this man to know him, when he doesn't even know himself?

So no they can't on purpose kiss because it so much more tragic if they never do. If the only thing they ever see in eachother are possibilities that have long since passed.

Do you think a suave cat bugler and a scruffy outlaw could on purpose kiss?

A couple npcs from my home game with some loosely leyendecker inspired rendering

[astraystayyh]

sahar’s 2024 fic wrapped!

𐙚 here’s a summary of all the fics i’ve posted in 2024!! + 2024’s masterlist! 𐙚

𐙚 first fic: kicked off the year strong with a drabble on hyune’s burgundy hair on jan 5th!!!!!!!! need to do the same for his buzzcut 🤭

𐙚 last fic: ended the year with a hyune one-shot, that is la déchirure- very proud of it :,)

𐙚 number of fics written: 21! including 11 drabbles and nine one-shots and one (incomplete) series. i’m very proud of myself actually :,) i didn’t write as much as my first tumblr year but i’m pleased with the quality of the longer fics i put out ☺️

𐙚 longest fic: la déchirure with 21.8k words. my little beast.. i’m slowly getting more comfortable putting out longer fics:,)

𐙚 favorite fic: my top 3 are: la déchirure, this work allowed me to explore themes of grief and how it comes in different shades and impacts our hearts differently. i loved my writing in it, i loved how easy it was for me to think of metaphors (which is my favorite thing about writing hehe) and i loved that many ex-ballerinas found my fic :,) then, the prophecy, this fic has so much of me in it and i need to finish it in 2025. i care for the characters as if they are real people, perhaps because i know what i’ll put them through 😭 but angel!yongbok is so dear to me. i love the storyline and i love the plot twists i have in mind too hehe. finally, starry night. i loved how this fic allowed me to explore vincent vang gogh’s beautiful paintings. i shared my interpretations of art through hyune and it was very very very fun to research and write that fic (thanks again to the person who commissioned me 🥹)

𐙚 most popular fic: pieces of you!!! (and it’s actually my most popular fic ever HELLO!!!) i actually didn’t expect that fic to get *this* much love but i must have underestimated the popularity of dad!chan 😭 i definitely have a soft spot for that channie, mc and sowon. i had a lot of fun brainstorming the fic with my dear xian so i’m so happy you guys enjoyed it as well :,))) MORE CHANNIE FICS TO COME!!!!

𐙚 most challenging fic: i’d say it’s an eye for an eye. it was my first time writing a fic that was more action/intrigue based and that span only over one day. but it got a lot of lovely feedback so that makes me super happy :,)

𐙚 most written about member: HYUNEEE!!! (who’s surprised? 😭) with 9 fics in total!!!! my actual muse. followed by lixie with 3 fics. minho, channie and binnie with two. and seungmin, hannie and innie with one. I NEEED TO WRITE MOREEEE FOR ALL OF THEM.

💓 anyways, here is my complete 2024 masterlist!!! thank wyou for reading me 🥹

i. your reaction to hyunjin’s new short purple hair.

ii. you apply lipgloss to felix except it takes on an emotional turn because he’s too pretty.

iii. please fall before i fall. (jeongin x reader)

iv. pieces of you. (chan x reader)

v. seungmin thinks you’re the prettiest at your most ordinary.

vi. valentine’s day with hyune.

vii. thunderstorm comfort with minho.

viii. burning in the winter wind. (changbin x reader)

ix. red lollipop. (felix x reader)

x. the snow falls we fall apart. (hyunjin x reader)

xi. breathe. (hyunjin x reader)

xii. inhale, exhale. (hyunjin x reader)

xiii. anxiety comfort with channie.

xiv. when you and hannie remember your (enemies) past.

xv. in which u are dating binnie and jeongin (ur younger bother) finds u kissing.

xvi. the prophecy. (felix x reader)

xvii. starry night. (hyunjin x reader)

xviii. sounds of hyunjin. (hyunjin x reader)

xix. a million little stars. (minho x reader)

xx. an eye for an eye. (hyunjin x reader)

xxi. la déchirure. (hyunjin x reader)

[fir3ylolol]

hi fir3y :3333 can we have more johnny cage x camera stuff (anything related, nothing specific; cameras in house, recording w phone etc) w him having a long time crush for y/n 😁 kind of like how you did w smile! you're on camera (i cant remember if i sent this if i already did im sorry 😥😥)

dazed and confused

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: it's been a while since you've seen your good friend johnny. but what happens when long-time crush mixes with weed?

tw: vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, oral sex, blowjob, eating out, cunnilingus, long-time crush, weed usage, intoxicated sex, loss of inhibitions, praise, filmed, sex tape, cumming inside, cum eating, putting on a show, whimpering men heheheh, afab!reader, gn reader

a/n: YAYYY finally another post!! its been forever. this was requested by @keiiikomegumi. gotta love men who fall hard and fuck desperately O.O also i think this is the longest fic other than we want you! ive ever written lol

word count: 2.65 k

Ao3

It’s been about 3 weeks since you last saw Johnny, which kinda sucks. He’s always a lot of fun, and you’ve been really stressed lately. So when you get his text reading, “come over 4 dinner, we can chill 0.o”, you quickly respond, “see u thennn”. You leave shortly afterward, excited to finally relax. You roll into his driveway after about 30 minutes of driving, seeing Johnny’s shadowed figure standing in the doorway. You hop out excitedly, walking over and capturing him in a tight hug. He laughs, hugging you back just as tight. “Hey! I’ve missed you, it’s been wayyyy too long. Come in, I’ve already got some food ready.” You walk in, drinking in the familiar sight of his home. You see the table set, two spots right next to each other, with a suspicious look on his face.

“So what do you have in store for me?” You sit down, watching as he disappears into the kitchen. “Well, I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately, and so have I. So…” He walks out, a large silver plate covered with a cloche. “I figured we deserved a treat,” he says with a smirk, lifting it and revealing two brownies. Realization hits you hard. You see, this is California, and if there’s any pastime Californians love, it’s getting high. Johnny is no different; in fact, he likes edibles more, since he says smoking will “damage his star-quality voice and flawless skin.” But he lives a stressful life, and he needs a break just as much as you. So seeing two, delicious-looking brownies on separate plates, you know exactly why you were invited. And you nearly cry.

“Johnny…” you smile up at him, “thank you. So much.” His eyes light up, placing the plates down for you two as he sits down next to you. “Yay, I knew you would be happy! Ok, I’ve got plenty of snacks in the fridge and cold ass water, so we’re set.” He picks his brownie up, and you follow, clinking them together like glasses before taking a bite. It’s rich, fudgy, and absolutely one of the best brownies you’ve ever had. With a mouthful of food, you try to speak, “Schit manm, ‘his is schoo good.” He laughs at you, finishing his bite before speaking, “It’s been barely a month and you’ve forgotten your manners?” You smack him lightly, before standing up and getting a glass of water, downing the whole thing. He follows you, giving you a big hug from behind. He’s rocking back and forth, face buried in your neck. He’s always been more touchy with you than his other friends, but you don’t mind. He’s warm and gentle and always smells fancy. But you laugh, rocking with him. “The room’s already spinning, oooooh.” He lifts you slightly, walking through the kitchen. “You’re so high, oh noooo!” He set you down, laughing still. “You’re so much fun, I missed you.”

You feel a slight twinge in your heart, the words must mean more to you than it does to him. You’ve been a little glad not to see him honestly, but only because your feelings for him have gotten that intense. A break was just what you needed, but now? When you’re going to be wasted and he’s just so nice and so close? You might break. But for now, you appear cool laughing as well before managing to say, “I missed you too” without seeming suspicious. And you start to fall into the same routine as usual, he leads you to the couch to chill together and watch something fun. He used to go to the cinema room, but once he got too high, watched Rambo on the big screen, and had a panic attack. Plus, you can’t cuddle in there, and he can’t stand for that, loudly declaring that he’ll rip the chairs out every time you two go in there. But he never does. You two end up talking about the weeks you didn’t see him. He’s been working on a new film, but won’t reveal any details other than it’s “based on a super true story”. And he laments how hard you’ve been working, trying to convince you again, “You should just quit and hang with me all the time. It would be awesome.” But alas, you turn him down again, as tempting as it is.

Before you know it, it’s been almost two hours, and you’re definitely feeling it more, the buzzing in your brain is a little louder, and Johnny’s touch gives you more goosebumps. But he leans back suddenly, looking you up and down. “Wait, I just realized, I can’t remember the last time you told me one of your famous bad date stories. What’s going on?” You fluster at his words, so direct and to the point that you can’t think for a second. You finally manage to speak again, your tongue feeling a little too heavy, “I’ve just been busy, man.” He scrunches up his face, thinking deeply. “When was the last time you got some? You know…” He nudges you, eyebrows raised suggestively. You take an embarrassingly long pause before speaking again. “...a year.” 

He leans forward, directly in front of your face. “A year?! How are you even alive??” You push him as playfully as you can, completely flustered by the whole thing. “Quit it, it’s not funny!” He sighs dramatically, splayed out across the couch. “So what’s up? Someone catch your eye or something?” You pause again, trying not to look at him, but your mouth betrays you. “Yeah, maybe. But it’s fine, he doesn’t like me like that.” He scoffs, head still tipped back, “What an idiot. You’re awesome. He’s really lucky I don’t just snatch you away for myself.” His whole body freezes as if he said something he didn’t mean to. You look at him, eyes wide and muscles tense. “W…what?” You ask tentatively. But he stands up, walking away while waving his arms around, “Nothing, nothing. Don’t worry about it.” But you can see the tips of his ears are bright red, and he’s tapping his foot on the ground, something he only does when nervous. You stand up and walk over, staying behind him. “Johnny, it’s something. Just tell me, it’ll be ok.” He takes a deep breath before speaking, still turned away from you. “I said he was lucky I didn’t take you for myself. I didn’t mean to say it, but honestly, it’s true. I mean, what kind of idiot doesn’t like the most stunning person alive? I just…I said too much, and I didn’t want to weird you out because you’re such a great friend and…” He’s babbling on, saying way too much and not making a ton of sense.

But you grab his hand lightly, which causes him to turn around. His eyes are watery, his cheeks and the tip of his nose are red, and his mouth is scrunched up in a frown. You can’t help but smile at him, squeezing his hand tighter. “Do you like me, Johnny?” He nods like a child, free hand coming up to wipe his eyes. “I like you too,” you say with a smile, no longer nervous or guilty of your feelings. He sniffles, looking at you with his wide brown eyes, “Really? You do?” As you nod, he sort of snaps back to usual, but not in a performative way, in a happy way. “Well of course you do! Who could resist all this?” He smiles before pulling you into a tight hug. “Thank you,” he whispers in your ear before he pulls away. But not fully, as you two lock eyes, and the air grows thick again. You swallow hard, eyes darting across his face nervously. He cups your face with his left hand, and slowly leans in, pressing his lips to yours. It’s exactly like him, warm and gentle, and it makes you dizzy. In fact, you feel your knees buckle slightly, which he laughs at into the kiss. As he pulls away to breathe again, you can’t help but feel hungry for more. You’ve only gotten a taste of what you’ve wanted for so long, and it’s very appetizing.

Johnny quickly pulls you back to the couch, barely able to think before you find yourself on his lap, hands wandering around your back, eyes locked onto yours. His touch is even more intoxicating than normal, with heavy breathing and racing hearts shared between you two. One hand reaches your neck, pulling you back in. But he’s not as gentle this time, like he’s trying to devour you whole. His other hand is on your hip, guiding you to grind against him slowly. Your hands wrap around his neck loosely. He groans into your mouth, squeezing tighter. You feel his tongue in your mouth, desperate for more of you, more than there is. You can feel yourself growing wetter, so high that your previous inhibitions are gone. Everything is happening so fast, and you’re starting to feel desperate.

He finally breaks away, panting heavily, before looking at you needily. And with how pretty his flushed face is and how badly he wants you, you can’t help but slide down to the floor between his legs. His pupils are blown out, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. He tries desperately to pull his pants down quickly, struggling slightly.  But he finally frees himself, cock bouncing out as the angry red tip leaks out. He’s embarrassed, turning his head away slightly, but keeping his eyes locked on you. You have no time to tease, absolutely hungry for him, for this. You take him in your mouth, getting most of the way down before you stop, looking up at him sweetly. He gasps, eyes wide and hands clutching at the couch cushions. You start to move, swirling your tongue around him as you keep a steady pace. His eyelids are fluttering, and very quickly he darts his hands out to grab your face lightly, bringing you up to face him. “C-can I film you? I just…I’ve wanted this for so long and you just look so pretty and I just…I don’t want to forget this, any detail of this.” 

You nod lazily, a smile spreading across your lips as you watch him scramble for his phone. He holds it up, hands shaking as he starts filming. You decide to put on a show for him, looking up through your lashes as you go down again, able to get almost all the way down, gagging slightly. He white knuckles the phone, staring at you intensely. His other hand comes up, grabbing your hair in one hand. His voice rasps out, “Wanna see that face, all of it. God, you’re so good at this. Fuck…” He sighs as you reach your hand out, starting to stroke him as you lean your head down, licking at his balls. He jumps slightly, but the most lovely whine escapes his lips, so you continue, trying to overwhelm him with pleasure. And overwhelm him you do, as he starts squirming back and forth at the intensity of it all, more heady whines. He finally remembers to hold the camera steady, trying to still himself. But as you go down again, rapid and sloppy moves, eyes watering as you look up again, his grasp on your hair tightens. He cries out as he cums, shuddering as you keep going, swallowing it all. You pull off with a pant, looking into the camera and sticking out your tongue to show what you did. He’s breathing hard, letting go of your hair and going slightly slack on the couch. But he tugs at your shirt, pulling it over your head. Even fucked out, he wants more.

You stand up, half-naked, and he tries his hardest to get your pants off too. But his hands are too shaky, and he’s trying to keep his grip on the camera. So you step back and slowly peel them off for him, and you can see his cock twitch slightly at the sight of you. You climb back on top of him, kissing him gently. But he leans to the side, propping the phone against the arm of the couch, and flips to the front camera. He shuffles down a little, leaning slightly to pull his pants down further as you pull his shirt off, wanting to feel his warm skin against yours. He kisses your cheek, and down your neck, reveling in the way you arch your back at the feeling. He whispers out shakily, “You ready? Gonna put a show on for me?” You nod, head dizzy again, as he rubs himself against you, audibly groaning at the feeling. He has no time to waste, sinking into you with a heady whimper. You gasp, taking a second to adjust to him, feeling his hands cling to your hips.

But it’s not long before he’s bucking up into you, using his grip on you for leverage. He’s bit down on your shoulder, whimpers slipping out. Your arms are behind his neck, clinging to him like your life depended on it. You feel him let go, raspy whispers in your ear, “You’re so hot, shit, so tight around me. You like putting on a show for me? Yeah?” You nod, moans pushed out at the force he’s moving now. His voice is shaking more now, but he can’t stop talking, “Shit, I don’t know if it’s the weed talking or what, but you’re so fucking good. Can’t believe I didn’t tell you sooner-” He’s cut off, a whimper as he manages to push deeper, completely enveloped in you. He’s losing his mind, hands wrap around your back for more leverage. But it’s not long before he’s cumming again, a whine as he pushes you down as far as he can. He’s trembling more, heavy pants in your ear. But finally, he’s lifting you and setting you down on the couch. Both of you are breathing heavily, trying to calm down after everything. 

That is until he grabs the phone and puts it in your hands. Confused, you look at him, but suddenly, he’s between your thighs, kneeling on the ground. “Can’t leave you wanting, especially after all that.” He dives in, with no sense of patience, as he sucks at your throbbing clit. His fingers pump inside you, your wetness mixing with his cum. You keep the camera on his face, legs pushed apart as you flinch at your sensitivity. He’s looking up at you, sweet eyes locked on you. He lets go slightly, mumbling into you, “Good job, baby, you’re doing such a good job.” You’re moaning, high-pitched, and slipping from your lips. He’s whining into your sopping cunt, vibrations against your clit causing more jumps. But you cling to him, eyes screwed shut as you cum hard, feeling his tongue lapping everything up with fervor. He finally separates from you, sitting down on the couch with an exhale.

He takes the phone, stopping the recording as he puts his arm around you. “I’ll save those for later,” he says, making you giggle slightly, but you’re quite tired. “We should get high more often, huh?” You snuggle into him, enjoying the feeling of his heartbeat under your ear. “Maybe. But hey, those videos better not get leaked or anything.” Your words cause him to whine out, slightly annoyed. “Come on, you know me! I would never. Besides…it would make too many people jealous, you know? Such a pretty thing like you, all for myself.” You laugh again before looking up at him, sleepy but happy eyes. “You’re stuck with me now, by the way.” He hugs you tight, squeezing you with a wide smile on his face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”