#it all comes back to that fucking rock

[ariapmdeol]

Dunno if anyone has asked this before, but WHAT HAPPENED IN THE CHAINSAW SCENE?? YOU KNOW WHICH ONE--

i was just very confused about who did what to whom,,

The chainsaw scene is in Hermit's room, in Soundfile 1954.04! I'll tuck the answer under the cut (has spoilers for Hermit's Room, DLC, and mentions of things from the artbook.). Enjoy this relevant gif.

I'm probably forgetting things that I should mention... If i have, then it'll come up again another time o7

We don't see much; Seodore was upset with Mutei and Rangiri over something that they did. He doesn't want them to use his fragments/pieces (these pieces are L/Lapicine/Philosopher's stones/Lime Azure). Seo had a chainsaw, tried to kill himself with it (decapitation), and Mutei tried to stop him. Rangiri tried to keep Mutei from getting closer. This takes place months after Rumeld's death.

The artbook shows Seodore's scar (around his neck).

I'm pretty sure this is a) When Mutei got himself sent to the Hermit's Room, b) When Rangiri got brain damage, and c) the start of the Fragment Shenanigans. Hajime was born about year after this incident and he's the First, and both Rangiri's mental instability and Mutei's disappearance are referenced to take place within a few years of this date. TLDR: the decapitation scattered fragments of Seodore.

Things to note:

Seodore was already immortal before the Chainsaw. Since 1912, he hasn't been aging and he's been eternally 25.

The Lime Azure (mentioned in record 4) is a gemstone (philosopher's stone). It sank with the Polaris (and Theodore Riddle) in 1912. Seodore is the goddamn rock. Philosopher's stones were also used by Mutei to make Factor Artifacts (Sanemitsu's Rainbow Pen, Enein's Blue Hilt, and The Red and Green Artifacts that are probably with Kado and Sueko Orie). Rangiri used his to make medicine (miracle cures) and also fed the last piece he had to Utsugi. I'm not going to go on the rock tangent right now but keep an eye out for mentions of yellow (and blue), and Gifts and Sephirah.

Mutei says that someone else completed his Fool's journey in an unexpected way, and thus he became a Hermit. The person mentioned here is (probably*) Seodore.

[hitlikehammers]

Rockstar!Eddie Leaves What He Had With Steve Behind in Hawkins 💔 to Chase His Dreams 🎸

(so why is it that he’s back in Steve’s bed Hawkins every couple months for ‘very pressing reasons’ that are straining Steve’s heart honestly anything but? 🫤❤️‍🩹🥺)

NOTE: this was originally a fill from @eddiemunsonbingo AGES ago, and I’m only bringing it over here NOW because something for the @steddielovemonth is going to be posted soon that is a standalone in its universe, but also very much a sequel to it ♥️

Steve really does try not to think about it in terms of…time.

Maybe that’s foolish. It’s mostly denial. Lots of it isn’t reliable anyway: the score his body keeps isn’t accurate, war-time left over from too many near-misses with a fucking alternate dimension but the popping in his joints and the ringing in his ears and the white hair he pulled out of his scalp and stared blankly at in the sink for a good twenty minutes: those are real things, but they don’t chart the passage of days, of hours, months and fucking years with any real meaning.

It’s been four years. Roughly. Depending on what the start point is. Whether it’s that Spring Break. Whether it’s the first winter. Or the spring after, when Robin begged him to go with her—there’s still time. She still begs, because they still talk given the thread inside them stays tied unbreakable to one another, oblivious to miles between. Maybe it’s measuring from the graduations, the kids—only Erica’s left at Hawkins High, now, though Steve gets calls from the whole bunch of them, Eleven the most, which was maybe surprising, then it’s a good split between Dustin and Will, another surprise. Max calls enough but her calls are calls, with a weight most of the others lack. Lucas’s calls aren’t super frequent but always long, mostly because he talks around the point forever, whatever the point happens to be. Even Mike usually ends up on the other end of the line once a month. It’s…that could be where the time starts from.

Or it could be the summer, that first summer. The one that taught Steve what it was to have a heart just to fucking break it.

Could be that. Impossible to say.

(It’s been 3 years, 7 months, and 14 days. Steve had only counted in retrospect, in the wreckage left behind, because while he’d known there was a deadline in it, to it all, he’d thought he could be enough. That he could change a mind. He’d thought…

Foolish things. Bullshit. Didn’t matter. Could be any fucking date.)

But since the point's come up, and it’s front of Steve’s mind, his least favorite (most favorite) place to find it: he hadn’t expected it. Robin liked to say she saw the signs but. Steve hadn’t watched it happen in slow motion because there wasn’t a single goddamn slow thing about it. Which was…for whatever it was worth, Steve knew falling fast and hard and with everything he was had maybe failed him every time, thus far, but at least he knows that for him?

That means it’s real. He’s all in. He might not be met equal on the other side of the equation—hadn’t been yet, maybe wouldn’t be ever, but he wasn’t having any luck trying to fucking change that fact so, learning to work with what he had was the best he could do. And he had love. He’d never been able to name it to himself so far: not before, and certainly never since. But.

Figuring out the sexuality thing had been a not-bathroom-but-definitely-floor talk on the shitty Family Video carpet sometime around November of ‘85. Slow days, idle comments, and Robin’s suspiciously-but-reliably-gentle-when-the-need-was-dire hand to his shoulder to say no, no: actually wanting to kiss people of any gender wasn’t really…the default Steve had always expected it had to be. How could anyone look at, say, Harrison Ford and not think, oh yeah, I would at least suck his face?

Turned out probably at least half the people on the planet. As in the straight guys and the lesbians. Steve had spent the majority of three days on that disgusting fucking carpet, open to close, popping up to ask Robin if she was sure because what about—

She was sure. And eventually, through a couple of needs for deep breathing and a handful of assurances that it was okay to cry—he appreciated that, but he kept the crying to his room after these long-ass shifts and if Robin stayed for some of those times, that was because she was half his head, half his heart, and she knew what he was going to do sometimes before he did.

They did end up on the floor of his bathroom, a clean one for once, at one point. Maybe because they both held to tradition. Maybe because Steve had largely come to terms with the mindfuck of yet another piece of his world, his self unravelling and rewriting itself, and thought the vodka in his dad’s liquor cabinet was a good way to celebrate. The label was entirely in Russian and Robin had been practicing on hers, said she was pretty sure it was the good shit.

Sometimes you can drink enough of the best shit on an empty stomach, though, and still spew the whole of it up.

Steve sometimes does think he drinks his dad’s best liquor that way on purpose, though. Delightful going down and yeah, it sucks to chuck it up but. The idea that it’s ultimately wasted feels…right.

Anyway: Steve had settled with it all by New Year's, and while he’d hosted the rugrats who could only blabber about their latest campaign with their epic DM, and he’d kissed Robin when the clock turned, well. It felt like a new start, a fresh page.

Something that had the chance at being a good thing.

And nothing much happened in the two-and-a-half-months that followed save for finally catching a glimpse of the D&D god who ran their little club while he was idling in his car to pick up the shitheads, this legendary DM who did not make Steve jealous one tiny bit and who was cool and was edgy and was so fuckin’ cool, Steve, did we tell you got cool he is?! and Steve had said language as monotone as he could before he squinted as out came all the metal and the ink and he’d said your club president dude is Eddie goddamn Munson and he should have kept his mouth shut because the amount of talking that ensued left him with a headache the size of Montana; but.

That was really all that happened until about…mid-March.

Then Spring Break happened.

It could be argued Eddie and Steve grew close enough to pass the acquaintances benchmark, ended up as at least tentative friends on top of necessary battle mates as early as the Upside Down. Whatever reason Eddie gave, he jumped in after Steve. Whatever speech Steve landed on, he didn’t want Dustin orEddie hurt.

It could be argued Steve wasn’t paying attention and didn’t stop in time and landed in the land of Tentative Friends You Wouldn’t Mind Added Benefits With after the…at least after the way Eddie leaned in close and his lips we so red and he called Steve big boy and…

Yeah.

When Steve carries what may or may not be Eddie’s still fucking corpse out of the Upside Down—he can’t tell, every time he tries to check again his own heart's too loud, his own breaths too shaky—but by then, they’re family. Bound in blood. Steve would die for him, like the others. He won’t let him die, if he can fucking help it.

Between him and Max, Steve almost crashes, breaks. Steve’s there when Max’s fingers twitch and he laughs with tears in his eyes and hands over hands and tells her he loves her and he’s sorry and he’s there, tries to talk around the letter he opened and resealed without evidence because Steve knows some tricks too, okay, and her words had broken him but now he could live up to what she thought she was leaving behind, could make sure she had every goddamn thing she thought she was giving up in spades, to roll around in in abundance. He was going to take care of her, whatever she needed. Whatever it took.

Her lips had quirked and the doctors called coincidence, don’t get your hopes up but; Steve knew Max. That was all her.

And there were more tears, he let her fucking feel them; he fucking hoped she’d notice, and remember, and give him so much shit.

Eddie takes longer, pulls out of the woods enough to exhale a few days later, and the way Steve slips out to find the hospital chapel, the only goddamn place he won’t be found by anyone he knows, and bawls his goddamn eyes out?

It’s family, and it’s love because it’s family but…it’s been so quick. It’s been intense, and that probably speeds it along but…

Shit. Shit.

That’s when Steve knows he sets a new goddamn record for himself and falls hard and heavy and stupidin, like, a week and change. Jesus Christ.

It’s in the recovery that they build something though. Something that’s not trauma or terror or the threat of imminent death. Steve spends most of his hours between two hospital rooms listening to progress reports and taking notes and the kids gravitate toward Max—Dustin would have been the outlier but Steve knows he’s not ready, and so he gives his own updates just to his brother when he drives him home after visiting hours—but that means Steve’s Eddie’s most common conversation partner. They talk about bullshit. Steve defends a-ha to the last breath he has. Eddie’s rendered speechless for a second and then frantic when challenged to pick his favorite band. Again when it’s his favorite song, from his favorite band. And again when it’s his favorite song of any song, ever at all. Steve's heart swells in the watching. He’s foolish enough to bask in the glittering of Eddie’s eyes when Steve indulges in talking, scene by scene as guided by the master in the bed beside him, about what his opinions on Star Wars really were. And then guided by no one, just invited to share what his opinions are on the last movie he saw and loved: which was Weird Science, the last movie he watched in a theatre because he and Robin had gone to face their fear or some shit after Starcourt and it was easier than he’d expected. Eddie listens, and nods, and asks if they can rent it when he’s out, before making sure to add  but you should really have a new choice like, eight months later, man, you work at a video store.

Steve was mostly just focused on Eddie more than implying, of his own volition, that he wanted to have a movie night.

Eddie’s released before Max, largely for mobility reasons, so they both go to visit her now. Robin’s put on the night shift when they schedule their movie night and Steve immediately moves to reschedule but she says no, she’s seen it, make Eddie suffer this time. So it’s just them.

They sit closer than they have to, on the couch.

And it’s little things that build from there. Max’s physical therapy is a government secret, like some fancy space-age protocol that has real hopes to put her on her feet again so she needs a ride, and while they could take turns, Steve and Eddie just take turns as to which vehicle they hop into to drive her. They stay when she needs them—not when she asks because she’s Max and she never asks—but it ends up three days a week back and forth and during: together.

And a lot of nights, for a movie or a smoke or a nightmare or a pulled stitch before they’re all taken out: together.

And shifts where Steve doesn’t even bother to bring his own lunch because Eddie Munson, unpredictable and wholly forgetful super-super senior—who Nancy and Hopper and most of all Joyce convinced the School would be finishing his final senior year at home save for tests, and only that once he was cleared by his doctors—that Eddie Munson brought Steve something every single time he worked. A burger, a chili dog, chicken fucking nuggets. A PB&J clearly homemade and cut diagonal.

So yeah. It starts out how it does when Steve’s in trouble. But it builds like…Steve’s never known before.

They kiss in May. Maybe so that it’s not their first, and a total cliche, when Steve kisses him for graduation behind the bleachers.

The sleep together after graduation, high on the thrill of it, and that’s maybe a cliche but Steve could not give a shit less.

And then they're EddieandSteve, only to find out they have been for a while; and this is just something a little deeper, a little bit more.

In ways that mean everything.

Looking back, Steve knows Eddie never minced words about his plan to leave Hawkins in the fall. With a mixtape and a prayer if I have to, Stevie-boy, he’d said once even, and Steve had laughed.

He’d fucking laughed.

So he’d known.

But July bleeds into August and Steve…Steve’s in love, okay, for real in a way that he’s never felt before. Right in a way he’s never felt before. He kinda just…overlooks it. Because Eddie seems to be at least on the same wavelength. Touches him first, reaches for him first: wants him. Looks at him with not just desire or attraction but…something no one’s ever looked at Steve with before.

And so he hopes. More than hopes.

But when Eddie starts packing, Steve can’t breathe.

He buys a set of luggage and goes home to start the same, has half of his not-excessive possessions shoved in when he realizes:

He’s not invited. Eddie’s never asked him to come.

Looking back, he’s afraid he wasted too much of those last weeks. Scared of giving too much away, the hurt from so many sides and the heartache that’s already taking root, but also: the way he clings, but tries not to make it obvious.

Fuck; but of course it was gonna be obvious, and how much energy did he waste, how many opportunities slipped by, because Steve was trying not to give away that Eddie leaving—to get away from a town that hated him, to try and make a real go with his music, to be anywhere without Steve so he could live out the dreams that predated Steve, that Steve had no place in—to try not to give away that all of it; it’d fucking destroy him.

Steve doesn’t know, to this day, how he stood and let Eddie kiss him breathless out the driver-side window, how he waved until Eddie was out of sight. He doesn’t know.

Kind of like he doesn’t know how he fucking keeps doing it.

Eddie throws tapes to every radio station with Van Halen or other top-played bands written on the insert in sharpie like that gives nothing away, and sneaks a demo in every underpaid delivery boy’s hands to record executives as he drives to the West Coast, sends Steve postcards what seems like has to be every goddamn day, filled up with his rambling until there’s no space left, has to draw lines around Steve’s address to make it clear where the damn thing’s going lest it get confused. Like they’re SteveandEddie still. Like only…only the things that changed after graduation are gone.

Steve sobs after about a month of it all, grateful and resentful, hateful and still so goddamn full of love it’s sickening. Literally, it makes him feel nauseous. He…

He keeps every postcard.

When one of them comes to say some idiot in San Francisco accidentally played Corroded Coffin on what’s apparently an important station, and Eddie got a letter in response from one of the labels, he says he’s coming back for the boys, they need to be ready. Steve knows he’s not one of the boys, but.

Eddie wouldn’t have told Steve he was coming if it wouldn’t matter to Steve. And maybe Eddie wasn’t in love with him anymore, maybe never was in love with him.

But he’d be lying if he said he thought Eddie didn’t love him. In a different way. A…you-don’t-get-to-come-with-me-but-I’d-still-want-to-see-you-when-I-stop-back kind of way.

And Steve…Steve’s not a fucking monk or anything. But even Robin doesn’t try to push him when he finally just tells her what he feels, lovesick and pathetic as it is:

I gave everything I had to someone else, and it’d be different if I wanted to back, to give again, but…I don’t.

I don’t want it back, not from him. Not if any part of him, wants to keep any part of it.

And because she’s Robin, she knows he means something else when he says ‘it’. And because she’s Robin? She’d push if she thought it was worth it.

She just holds him, and that’s really the best thing he could ask for.

But it becomes a thing. The boys go with Eddie, and they record new shit to impress...whoever. And they do. They come back for Halloween, because Eddie loves it. The label’s dragging its feet, but they’re not deterred, they’re energized. They come back for Thanksgiving because Wayne loves it—except he doesn’t, Steve knows that, Wayne actually hates trying to make a bird and Eddie had lamented more than once that they ended up with lunchmeat cut into cubes one year when Wayne was particularly frustrated with the process. They go out East, and try a few studios in New York. They come back for Christmas.

Eddie spends most of his time with Steve. Steve doesn’t fucking fight that; wants it…like…

There’s nothing to compare how he wants it to. Nothing exists that fits.

Eddie spends most of the time that he spends with Steve, though?

In Steve’s bed.

And here’s the thing: Steve had a decent amount of experience to compare to, but once they’d fallen into a rhythm, got past the awkward bits, the learning curve? Sex with Eddie had been a goddamn revelation. Not just because he was a man—after he’d left, Steve had forced himself to try, and dispelled that possibility quick as hell—and now?

Now, it’s like they never stopped. Every fucking time, it’s like they never stopped.

Steve’s not surprised in the slightest that he remembers every give and tell of Eddie’s body—of course he goddamn does—but that Eddie doesn’t miss a beat in touching, sucking, licking, worshippingSteve’s? That’s insane. That’s…

Unexpected. Every time it’s unexpected and every time Steve’s shown he wasn’t forgotten when he probably should have been. Eddie’s building a life that doesn’t include him.

He’ll only get in the way.

But Steve is selfish and stubborn and maybe it’s often, like almost strangely so, but it’s only a week or two at a go so he tells himself he’s allowed. He tells himself that it felt like making love in the beginning because Steve was in love, and that it still feels exactly the same because Steve…Steve never stopped.

Steve is still just as goddamn in love.

So yeah. Steve sleeps with Eddie and it’s like…it’s like rationed air. He gets a regular taste and he gets to keep breathing.

And it’s okay. Probably more then. Because he gets Eddie—even a little bit. Even just in scraps. When he has Eddie?

He has him, even for moments that were never made to last.

It’s Easter, this time. The band put out their first record in January. It’s doing really well. Eddie’s over the moon. Someone called about a magazine cover for a publication in Cleveland that’s apparently kind of a big deal, Alt..something. Steve will buy every copy in a fucking 100-mile radius. 200 miles. 500—

It’s Easter. Eddie didn’t lament not celebrating it after Spring Break in ‘86 but he’s back every year now. And if it’s just…come to mean something, or maybe did then and circumstances won out against it? Steve will be here. Steve will be comfort and a reprieve or a hot as hell romp with a familiar body, Steve will…

Yeah. Steve will do whatever’s needed. Wanted. Anything.

Pathetic.

But so much better than nothing.

Case in point: they’re both naked, sweat mostly dried, sharing a joint and it’s comfortable. It’s quiet and gentle and put up against sitting alone on a weeknight, not with Eddie?

It’s heaven.

“So when’s the dream happening?”

Steve looks cross-eyed toward his lips; he hasn’t smoked this thing long enough to have heard wrong. He squints up at Eddie, whose chest he’s laid out on, confused. Offers him the smoke but he waves it away.

“The dream?” Steve asks finally, when Eddie doesn’t seem to want to answer on his own.

Eddie looks at him weird. Not weird for its own sake but like: like he’s staring into him, and then like he’s disbelieving, but then also like he’s seeing him for the first time.

That kind of weird.

“Getting the fuck out of here,” Eddie answers like it’s obvious. “White picket fence. Little nuggets.” He spreads his hands as wide as possible without tossing Steve from where he lies. “See the sights.”

And Steve’s response is immediate. Doesn’t even require a thought.

He laughs. Like, ugly-laughs.

“Man,” he shakes his head as he catches his breath, and passes the joint off this time with purpose, not an offer or a choice as he snorts a little; “that’s not the dream.”

When Eddie doesn’t grab the smoke, Steve finally looks up. Eddie…

Eddie looks like what Steve’s always struggled to understand the word ‘poleaxed’ to mean. He thinks it might be this.

He looks…like something stuck him through the gut. Slapped him silly across the face.

“What d’ya mean?” And it’s just three words, one that’s a cheat, and he says it slow enough to take an age.

Steve breathes out, and then, if he’s gonna be honest, and if he has to keep holding the damn thing anyway, decides to take another drag before speaking:

“Figured out what the dream was, inside the dream,” Steve says, wondering if he’ll get away with the vagary; knowing he won’t.

“All we see or seem?” Eddie jokes a little, but it falls flat, his tone eerily kinda…strained but hollow.

“I like poetry.” Steve smiles up at him, soft, and offers the joint again straight to Eddie’s lips. He takes it this time.

“It was about family. It was about stability, not,” Steve shakes his head, stops talking half-assed around the lungful he’s holding, and lets it out slow; “not in a place, fuck, not in a house, but,” a person he doesn’t say, but he hears it in his head; “it was about sharing it.”

And that's it. That’s the simplest, most straightforward truth. Steve doesn’t think there’s anything complicated, or offensive in it. Hard to swallow. Even if he’s come to terms with it. Is mostly at peace with it.

Which is why it’s weird, that Eddie feels suddenly rigid beneath him.

So Steve turns, and braces his hand on Eddie's chest for balance, and frowns when he doesn’t even have to push down to feel the way his heart’s a fucking riot.

“What?” Steve asks, gentle; Eddie’s face is a portrait of conflict, of distress and Steve can’t fucking figure out why, they just came like four times between them and are sharing some very nice Cali weed—they’re nestled close, they’re together, it’s…

Eddie’s quiet, his breath disconcertingly steady for how his pulse pounds, and then he breathes out slow before covering his face:

“I don’t think I can fuck this up any worse than I already have, so,” he mutters, dejected for reasons Steve can’t even guess, then he laughs, humorless, shakes his head:

“Let me try, I guess.”

Steve frowns, uncomprehending, until:

“I’ve been in love with you forever.”

Steve thinks the world stops. His heart does, at least. Suspended. Silent so he doesn’t miss a syllable.

“And I told myself,” Eddie bites at his lip, worries at the bottom swell; “end of that summer, from the very first, I said: don’t ask him to come with you, even if it breaks your heart,” and oh god, oh god after all this time: Steve doesn’t think he’s projecting to hear the genuinely broken heart in those words for just remembering.

“Don’t ask him to settle, you’re not even in the same universe of what he wants,” fuck, what lies Eddie’s saying; did he believe them? Has he always—“what he needs.”

But Eddie is everything he needs, always was, will always be—

“You’ll never have the picket fence. You can’t give him his nuggets. You should never be trusted to park a Winnebago.”

They could have had a shitty studio apartment. They could have had the kids in college. They could have run the BMW until it died, or sold it to put toward a better van for equipment. They could have—

“You’re selfish, Munson, you’re a rat fucking bastard but,” Eddie’s still going, heart still hammering under Steve’s touch even as Eddie swallows hard and fails to smile, looks ill with the attempt like it hurts to try: “you love him too much for that.”

Oh. Oh god.

“It didn’t break my heart, though,” Eddie clears his throat and glances away, to the ceiling, eyes too bright: oh fuck; “broke my goddamn soul,” and a tear falls, and Steve can’t help but wipe it away, and kiss the track. Even just once.

So he does.

“When I saw you again that first time back,” Eddie starts again, voice rougher and shakier as he reaches a hand for Steve’s. “I could have asked the boys to fly out, the execs offered, but,” and this time, the attempt to grin is more successful, like a weight’s lifted from it: “and you smiled at me, it felt like,” and when he shakes his head this time it’s for disbelief, but the kind that comes with awe; “and when we slotted back together like we’d never been apart, it was…”

Eddie’s voice trails, but it cracks at the end—Steve doesn’t know which does more to stop his words.

He’s grateful, relieved, when they come back. He’s powerless but to give when Eddie touches his cheek so gentle and breathes:

“And I had to tell myself again, and again,” he murmurs, stroking Steve’s skin like he’s precious: “you love him too much to take his dream away from him.”

“What did it matter?” Steve can’t help but ask, no malice in it, just the need to understand. “You had your dream, you have—“

They have a contract. They have an album climbing the charts. They’re not just on their way—they’re there. The only next step is to get bigger, and bigger, and—

“Dreams within dreams, wasn’t it?” Eddie murmurs close to Steve’s cheek, where maybe he’s pressing to be close, or maybe he’s hiding a little, so Steve strokes his hair because he can either way and relishes how Eddie leans, melts into it like always. “Inside the dream?”

Steve nods, more to encourage more words. More Eddie.

“Break my dream open and there’s you with me, every step,” Eddie whispers, his lips warm on Steve’s skin. “Break my heart open, same damn thing,” and that causes Steve to shudder, and his heart to pick up now, too. “Both just kinda crumble if you take out the center.”

Steve can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Wants to. Doesn’t think they’re lies. It’s just, he…

“Those,” Steve tries to speak but his voice cracks; he clears his throat and kicks his lips while he tucks Eddie into his neck, under his chin: “those would be good lyrics.”

“No,” Eddie shakes his head and nuzzles Steve’s throat with the motion and this can’t be happening.

This can’t be happening, can it?

“No, those words were only ever meant just for you.”

And Eddie kisses the pulse point close to his mouth and holds there, like a sentry and a miser, and holy shit.

Holy shit.

“And I don’t know,” Eddie’s saying more, but it’s pitchy, thready, like he’s barely holding the words together at all; “I don’t know if it’s nostalgia, or convenience, or routine,” his voice breaks again and the sob’s in the word when it comes even if it’s not streaming down on his cheeks: “pity,” and no, no, not fucking ever, how—

“I was never your dream then, and I don’t even know if I can be your inside-dream now, and,” Eddie’s rambling, and he does that when he’s desperate, when he’s overwhelmed and overfull with feeling—and Steve knows that. Steve knows that about him.

Steve knows. Better than he knows himself, Steve still knows him.

“I just want the world for you,” Eddie whispers, stroking up and down Steve’s jaw; “my sweetheart. My sunshine,” he smiles so real and soft and Steve melts, like the heart in his chest starts spilling through his ribs, warm and liquid: “you deserve more than the world, more than fuckin’ me and I,” Eddie shakes his head again, more this time like he’s stopping himself, like it’s a defense mechanism and Steve reaches for his cheeks, broad palms on either side to hold him still because…he doesn’t want Eddie to stop.

Ever.

“Did I ruin it?” Eddie breathes, and barely at that, eyes so wide and swimming and oh, god; “did I—"

And Steve can’t help it. He can’t help but kiss him with all he’s got, even if it couldn’t be all Eddie’s worth in all the world. Steve can’t contain all that Eddie’s worth.

But he can give everything, because this is the man who already has it.

“What the hell was I supposed to be to a rockstar?” Steve tries to talk through his own tight throat, his own growing smile, his own threat of tears bubbling close to the surface. “How the fuck was I ever going to measure up, ever do anything but hold you back when you could have—“

“I come back to you, for you,” Eddie answers immediate; it’s not what Steve’s asking but he won’t lie and say he didn’t want to know, at least a little. “The handful of times I’ve tried,” Eddie shakes his head once now, definitive; “I have always left my everything with you.”

The idea that Steve’s spent all this time feeling empty, and hollow, and missing the best of himself where it lived in the man he loved—the idea he was wrong, that they both were so fucking wrong is…insanity.

“I had a bag half packed.”

Steve doesn’t need to explain further. The noise Eddie makes is pure pain.

“Baby,” he nearly croons, falls into Steve somehow closer, wraps him up tighter; “I wanted to kidnap you in the night.”

“I sobbed in my bed after you were out of sight.”

“I pulled over before the town sign, because I couldn’t see the goddamn road.”

And Steve…Steve doesn’t really have a decision to make about what he says next. What dream he wants; always has.

“I never got rid of the luggage.”

And Eddie hears everything he says in those words, because after everything, Eddie Munson knows him, and…yeah.

Steve’s been kissed in a lot of ways before. By this man in particular, even.

But this: if leaving broke Eddie’s soul, if somehow the lack of Steve somehow did that?

This is…this is the body meeting another body, heart to heart and tasting the way a soul slides back in place. It's Eddie’s hands in his hair like hell never let go and he’s happy about the idea; blissful for it, even. It’s—beyond anything Steve’s ever known. So: yeah.

It’s not a decision. It’s just a fucking given.

♥️

🎸also on ao3

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here

[b4kuch1n]

glorioso from last years twitterin

[sabo-torao]

the brief spoilers for one piece chapter 1126 are out and wdym the east blue crew + chopper disappeared with the sunny right before reaching elbaf. and nami wakes up in a "weird room"? and. again. it's the first six members of the straw hats. we are probably getting an ARABASTA CREW focused chapter soon. this cannot be random

[spiderman2-99]

Where should you be kissed?

Knuckles. it feels as though you have fought every day of your life. sometimes, you cannot even tell how much of the blood on your hands is your own... and how much comes from those who've tried to hurt those you defend. you deserve the gentleness of a kiss to your bruised knuckles and broken skin, a reminder that you are not only made of violence.

[stolen from templeofvengeance; tagging you]

[playablekairi]

why were you digging? what did you bury? before those hands pulled me from the earth

[doing-something-unholy]

Is it geologically probable for swallows rest to have basalt cliffs? Not really. Am i gonna headcanon it anyway? Of course.

Because I can picture Adrian and Victor walking along the beach, spending time waiting for lord vane to arrive. When all of a sudden Adrian comes to a dead stop in the middle of a sentence, staring at something ahead of them. Then he gasps, and gets so excited he forgets where he is, who he's with, and the collar around his neck, as he starts excitedly slapping Victor in the arm going, "Look, look, look, look--" at top speed.

Victor, who was primed for some kind of emergency since Adrian stopped talking is looking around frantically like, "What, what happened???"

Only for Adrian to point ahead and whisper-yell, "Basalt cliffs!!" And start booking it across the beach.

And yeah, maybe it painfully reminds Victor a lot of his younger self, and he's just about ready to remind Adrian of his manners as a priest, but then Adrian turns around to see if hes coming and the smile on his face is the most animated hes seen Adrian since he met him. And when he catches up he gets treated to a long winded ramble about crystal structure and volcanic activity and geologic hotspots and the Implications and how they could easily be the most ancient part of the island and erosion wear patterns and hes always wanted to see these in person cause they have them in northern ireland and and-- Its the most he's ever heard Adrian talk in one sitting.

And he supposes that having an appreciation for the wonders of the world that God made is perfectly acceptable for their profession, and lets him talk as long as likes.

[th3-c0ll3ct3r]

(to clarify I mean this from a writing perspective. Like I don't think the writers necessarily, originally intended for Stolas to be racist and when you break it down I think they were going for him being more classist but at face value he seems racist.

Put together, and at face value he's racist. Breaking it down and from a narrative point, it seems he was supposed to be classist. WHICH IS STILL A BAD not defending the man in that front

Genuinely don't think they intend for Stolas to be a completely racist person/didn't intend for old (season 1) Stolas to be racist, but when you look at it all put together he's definitely got SOME racist energy.

But they definitely doubled down in season 2 on "old Stolas was racist bc of the people he grew up with"

But I'm just breaking down why I DON'T THINK THEY ORIGINALLY WANTED IT TO BE THAT WAY and it wasn't really an error, it was more of a one-track mind approach)

Someone on twitter said that Stolas is racist

ALSO DON'T GO TRACKING THEM DOWN TF?!+

...

BUT HE'S NOT-

(from a writing perspective/break down perspective)

He has been conditioned into being classist. Stella's the racist one-

✨🧵AhEm🧵✨

When lil Stolas was meeting Blitzo for the first time, and he bows to him, paimon says something along the lines of "don't bow, he bows to us idiot" before smacking him over the head

Paimon implies ( and outright says) that he should bow to him because he's not worth it, because they're better then them. Richer. Power. Just "better"

However Stolas, continues to treat them like equals even when they're playing. He doesn't look down on Blitzo for being an Imp. But Stolas doesn't acknowledge that they have different lives because Stolas is rich.

He just assumes Blitzo could read, has a education and wants to learn but changes his tune when Blitzo awkwardly stares at him and suggest something else.

In the future right after the whole "omg you slept with someone" happens to Stella.

Stella says "You slept with an Imp in our fucking bed!" now today isn't a discussion of how much of a narcissistic bitch Stella is so we'll leave it out there to chill

BUT Stella says you slept with an Imp. Not a person. But an Imp. STELLA IS THE RACIST ONE BECAUSE SHE ONLY SEES HIM AS AN IMP AND NOT AN ACTUALLY PERSON

(and if you don't see it, imagine saying "I can't believe you slept with a person of colour!" that's basically what Stella said)

Stolas doesn't even acknowledge it, saying he didn't have enough time to get a Motel. Stolas doesn't say anything about Blitzo being "just an Imp" he just talks like he's sleeping with anyone.

You could literally change Blitzo name for anyone else and I'd still work.

But here's the thing, Blitzo is one that see Stolas as a bit of a racist because he thinks Stolas was the one who bought him for a day or so.

Like he thinks Stolas bought him. But it wasn't Stolas. It was Paimon, he bought him so that he won't have to deal with Stolas being upset. Stolas didn't even have a choice in the matter so it wasn't his fault.

But here's how he's UNINTENTIONALLY classist.

AhEm

Literally the entire relationship and dynamics-

Stolas technically bought the IMP services TWICE, once in the trailer/pilot and another in the Loo-Loo Land episode.

Stolas rented Blitzo team out for the day, because Stolas was paying him to do so. He practically bought Blitzo's time.

He looked down on Millie and Moxxie because he really only intented to buy out Blitzo time and not there's. He didn't need protection as we can see at the episodes end, he just bought Blitzo's time for entertainment. FOR ENTERTAINMENT

Stolas initially thought that he was entitled to Blitzo's time because he bought out THE WHOLE BUSINESS SERVICE FOR ONE DAY.

And at the beginning of the Stolas literally says "We're rich and we're hot, people want our money and our bodies" HE'S IMPLIES THAT HE'S SUPERIOR TO EVERYONE ELSE NOT BECAUSE THEY'RE IMPS OR HELL-BORN DEMONS

IT'S BECAUSE THEY'RE RICH! AND HE ACKNOWLEDGE THAT!

And then he tells Blitzo that he'll pay him for his time- HE'S LITERALLY THROWING MONEY AT HIS PROBLEMS HOPING IT'LL BE OKAY BECAUSE THAT WHAT HIS DAD DID!

And in the Harvest Moon episode Blitzo defends Stolas because Stolas is literally the secondary breadwinner with in his business. If Stolas dies then Octiva gets the book and then Blitzo doesn't have it, so they can't make money anymore.

Stolas again is in someway shovelling money to stay in someone's life, taking advantage of the fact that Blitzo NEEDS HIM.

But in the episode Truth Speaker, that's when Stolas changes his mindset (all be it, off screen) he realizes when Blitzo is endangered but he can't just throw money at problems and actually has to do something to keep him safe.

This is the first time that he is not thrown money at a problem and it worked.

Moving on in the story Stolas has some on screen and off screen character development, in which the power dynamics and throwing money as every single problem isn't right anymore and it was never right.

Because before then he'd been practically throwing money in the face a not-so-successful-at-the-time Blitzo just for his company.

That was some level of autonomy in that relationship but it was mostly him just throwing money and buying him out and buying his time.

It Highlights the absolute wealth difference between the two characters.

Before the episode Truth Seeker, Stolas was indeed a classist character it may have not been as obvious as some other characters but he was a bit classist at the least.

Before the episode Truth Seekers, Stolas saw Blitzo as somewhat below him, because he could just afford to buy him out. But after realising that he was indeed a person and could be hurt, I believe after that episode is when he actually begun to care.

Ozzie's was the eventual big push for him to get better. It was obvious that Stolas WAS embarrassed to be with Blitzo. And not because he was an Imp like Ozzie implied because Stolas could have just clapped back with "AND TF ABT U BITCH?? HUH?"

No, it's because Ozzie made the Association that since he was with an Imp, then that equals poor, which equals embarrassment, which equates to him asking why did you throw away your marriage for someone who is poor?

Because I don't think Ozzie would have been racist, on stage, infront of other Imps and his Imp boyfriend.

After this episode we can see that he has a change of heart and a change in which he views things. After this episode he realizes that Blitzo's feelings could no longer be bought because he'd made him genuinely upset and there was no amount of money you could throw on that 🔥dumpster fire 🔥to make it okay

By that point the business was already successful so it was no longer a matter of money.

After this Stolas has some off screen development it seems. Better himself as a person and truly beginning to see equals but as a consequence he had to acknowledge over pain and the sheer power he had in the relationship.

That's when in the episode Oops, Stolas decides to get Big Boss Ozzie-mozzie Crystal to try and end this constant power dynamic and classism that was in their relationship.

I'm in the episode we can Stolas helping out his "equal" when it came down to Fizz. He didn't just turn around and go "well he's an Imp, icky not helping him. I'll come back later"

He sat there through the entire thing helping Ozzie out, not out of obligation. He literally could have left but didn't because he didn't see Fizz as Ozzie's problem, he now saw Fizz as a genuine person.

And the set up to this was great because Ozzie would have had to sign away alot of money to get Fizz out of trouble, and its a nod back at when old him would have probably just threw money at this problem but instead of that he advises his "equal" to NOT throw money at the problem and instead read the entire contract to make sure that everything goes well.

LIKE OLD STOLAS WOULD NOT HAVE CARED ENOUGH TO READ THAT ENTIRE THING, AS MUCH AS HE LOVES WORDS

this act alone not only let Fizz and Blitzo work shit out but also showed the viewer that he had changed for the better, and he was going through character development to not be a dick

And now we're at Full Moon and at this rate Stolas has already had all the necessary character development off-screen to no longer be as classist as he was before, and it's a bit disappointed that this was in highlighted a bit before but you gotta read through the line sometimes

Stolas now sees them as equals. But he hadn't shown Blitzo that. Blitzo is still scared of Stolas and his influence and status and money, last Blitzo check he'd had to spend time looking for Stolas daughter so that he won't be as mad and he won't banned him from the book.

An honestly if he had it his way Blitzo probably never would have went to the human realm to help look for his daughter.

But at that rate it was out of sheer obligation-

And as much as the episode tries to play it off as a gag, Blitzo still has to drop everything to help him out, YES because he does care but also out of fear of losing his only source of income.

So for Stolas to rock up in Full Moon and be like, "I see you as an equal and I love you" WOULD HAVE FUCKED BLITZO SHIT UP

Because all Stolas and his family did was, BUY HIM, BUY HIS TIME AND MAKE HIM FEAR FOR LOSING HIS ONLY SOURCE OF INCOME ON MULTIPLE OCCASIONS-

He'd only been inadvertently put down by Stolas not because that was Stolas intention but because that's what is actions gave off in terms of vibes.

And that's why in the Helluva universe Stolas is unintentionally a classist character, to which he didn't know about it UNTIL IT WAS TOO FUCKING LATE-

No I will not be taking question. Yes this took me 30 minutes to write because of my inability to spell. Shush!

[twistedappletree]

i see the “americans moving to rednote without being horrifically sinophobic” challenge already failed lmao

[solar-halos]

steal something from my room

tagged by @ongreenergrasses <3 thank you bae this was very fun and cutsie

tagging (if you want!): @thelettersfromnoone @the-sun-and-the-sea @vampirehizzies @persephoneprice

[savage-rhi]

I haven't drawn since the start of the pandemic in 2020 everybody fucking clap its my Screaming Worm Boy (tm) from my fanfic Duality

[thenapalmvault]

Americans will whine and piss about how certain subcultures died after having abandoned it (or even cynically chalked it up to not being "cool" anymore) while consistently ignoring South American and Asian countries that have kept that subculture alive and well for years and I will always be mad about that.

[hooked-on-elvis]

"If You Don't Come Back" (1973)

Recorded July 21, 1973 at Stax Studios, Memphis · Released on October 1, 1973 · Album: Raised On Rock

MUSICIANS Guitar: James Burton, Reggie Young, Charlie Hodge. Bass: Tommy Cogbill. Drums: Ronnie Tutt, Jerry Carrigan. Piano: Bobby Wood. Organ: Bobby Emmons. Vocals: Kathy Westmoreland, Mary (Jeannie) Greene, Mary Holladay, Ginger Holladay, J.D. Sumner & The Stamps. OVERDUBS Guitar: Dennis Linde

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"If You Don't Come Back" — LYRICS Songwriters: Jerry Leiber/Mike Stoller (Woke up early in the morning) (What did the poor boy find) Well the car was gone and you were gone And I almost lost my mind If you don't come back (if you don't come back) Hum, if you don't come back today (if you don't come back today) You can call up the people at the crazy house And take this crazy man away (He threw himself off a gas stone wall) (He tore his clothes out the door) I ran out on the street in my stocking feet Tell the police I've been robbed If you don't come back (if you don't come back) Hum, if you don't come back today (if you don't come back today) Well you can call up the people at the crazy house And take this crazy man away Mrs. Brown's been talking about me To the people across the street She said (I cooked that boy a pot full of stew, But the poor thing just won't eat) If you don't come back (if you don't come back) Hum, if you don't come back today (if you don't come back today) You can call up the people at the crazy house And take this crazy man away

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

RECORDING SESSION Studio Sessions for RCA. July 20–25 1973: Stax Studios, Memphis On that first night Elvis left the studio after four hours, having recorded absolutely nothing. He arrived late again on the following night, his speech so slurred that he seemed scarcely awake. The sound of his voice on the session tapes makes it painfully evident that he had little interest in recording at all. Freddy Bienstock began by presenting a Leiber and Stoller number, “If You Don’t Come Back,” which he had secured under the new publishing arrangement, and Elvis barely managed to drag himself through five indistinguishable takes before Felton called him in to listen to the results. In the end the ninth take became the sorry-sounding master, devoid of anything like fire or enthusiasm. Excerpt: "Elvis Presley, A Life in Music: The Complete Recording Sessions" by Ernst Jorgensen. Foreword by Peter Guralnick (1998)

Elvis Presley at Stax Studios in Memphis, July 1973.

In order to understand better what was going on in Elvis' life at the time the first Stax recording session was held in July 1973, let's get some facts on his life during that year.

1973 RECORDING SESSIONS (BACKGROUND STORY)

The Aloha From Hawaii concert (January 1973) demanded a lot of energy from Elvis. Once it was over he was very tired due to all the months of preparation for this huge concert to which, for example, he went through an extremely restrictive diet to get in a good shape and, to make matters worse, couldn't get enough rest at night either; but things would get even worse in the following months with a very busy schedule ahead.

Following the Aloha From Hawaii was a four-weeks engagement at the Hilton Hotel in Las Vegas (January 26 - February 23, 1973), to which Elvis missed several performances due to a bad case of laryngitis (he wasn't even supposed to be working, according to doctor's orders). After the Vegas engagement Elvis had a mini tour in April (April 22 - April 30, 1973) when he performed in Arizona, California, Oregon, Washington and Colorado. Not enough, Elvis then had a two-weeks engagement scheduled at the Sahara Tahoe Hotel, Las Vegas (May 4th - May 20th 1973), to which some dates also had their concerts cancelled, allegedly due to the flu and a chest infection, and back on the road once more another mini-tour followed (June 20th - July 3rd 1973), with Elvis visiting cities in Alabama, Georgia, New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Missouri, Tennessee, and Oklahoma. Other than demanding a lot of him physically at a moment his health was as delicate as it was, those concerts ended up being emotionally tiring for Elvis as well. Some of those concerts were highly criticized by the press, highlighting that, for example, Elvis had gained thirty pounds, looked puffy and white-faced, besides he was blinking against the stage lights during the shows (due to secondary glaucoma to which he had been diagnosed in March, 1971) and on top of that, the worst for the audience, his voice sounded weak and his performance lacked in enthusiasm. It wasn't the Elvis Presley everyone knew, loved and praised, and knowing about all that criticism must have felt disappointing to Elvis himself.

The origin for all those health problems, apart from physical exhaustion caused by pre-diagnosed health conditions, adding to unhealthy eating habits and not enough rest, was also emotional. Elvis' personal life was not in the best fitting. He was dating Linda Thompson since mid-1972 but in 1973 he was still dealing with the divorce procedures with Priscilla; the heartbreaking part of it all, what could've been affecting Elvis' mind the most, was worrying about what the divorce would cause to his daughter, Lisa. That can be supposed by a bad reaction to a song Elvis would cut at the Stax, "My Boy"; He showed his feelings about that song telling Felton Jarvis that he wanted it to be done in two takes tops. When asked to sing the song for the third time Elvis snapped at Felton (record producer), "I told you to get this goddamn thing in two takes. I can’t sing it no more." Elvis' divorce with Priscilla was only final on October 9, 1974.

As evident, Elvis was dealing with a lot in 1973. His choice of city for a recording session at that time was Memphis because he wasn't feeling specially excited with cutting records at that moment, let alone travelling to get to a studio in another city. The American Sound Studio's producer, Chips Moman, who had worked with Elvis in 1969, was no longer in Memphis, so the Stax and its crew was a fairly good alternative to them. The initial Stax recording session ended up being disappointing- with only seven songs getting a master approved to be released on the next album. With the lack of sufficient material for a new album after the July recording session at Stax, RCA managed to get their mobile-recording truck at Elvis' property for a home recording session at Elvis' home in Palm Spring (September 22-23, 1973) because Elvis was hesitating in going back to the studio one more time. The album Raised on Rock was finished after that home recording session, and it was released the following month (October 1973), but proved to be a failure in sales.

By December 1973 Elvis seemed to be feeling good again, at least good enough to go back to the studio for another recording session at Stax. He was in a better place physically and mentally by then. But as for the first recording session at Stax, that's the background story... things didn't worked that smoothly in that studio at first.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

FURTHER INFO Vegas 1973 engagements (cancelled concerts)

LAS VEGAS HILTON — January 26 - February 23

Elvis was supposed to perform two concerts per night — a Dinner concert at 8:15pm and a Midnight concert at 12:00am) — with an exception for the opening night, with only one evening performance. From January 26 to February 23, 1973 for that Vegas engagement at the Hilton, Elvis performed every single night but the January 31st, with both concerts being cancelled. The other cancelled concerts were exclusively the Midnight concerts, with Elvis performing the dinner concert in those dates. The days the Midnight concert was cancelled were: February 1, February 6 and 7; February 13, 14 and 15.

SAHARA TAHOE — May 4th - May 20th 1973 (ended up sooner, on May 16th)

As for the Sahara Tahoe Hotel engagement (May 4th - May 20th 1973), the agreement was similar in schedule as for the shows at the Hilton — Dinner (in Sahara Tahoe at 10:00pm instead of 8:15pm) and Midnight (12:00am), with the opening night having one evening concert only. On that engagement there was also an additional show ("Mother’s Day" concert) at 3:00am on May 13, apart from the Dinner and Midnight usual concerts prior to this one (which was a benefit concert; the proceeds would go to Lake Tahoe’s Barton Memorial Hospital where Elvis' mother Gladys had once undergone surgery). From a two-weeks engagement, both concerts from May 17 to 20th, 1973 had to be cancelled (eight concerts).

Source: elvisconcerts.com, elvisinfonet.com, graceland.com; "Elvis Presley, A Life in Music: The Complete Recording Sessions" by Ernst Jorgensen.

[trickstersaint]

hey hi hello! first of all i'd like to say i took your patron saint uquiz and it. Changed my life unironically it's so good. i follow you now because every line in that quiz was a gut punch and i loved it. top tier hurt honestly

my question is this - i am a fanauthor. on the side i also write my own original fiction but i specialize in fanfic. Am I allowed to use your poetry for a reference folder? I wouldn't use your poetry in a fic without explicit permission and without linking back here of course, and I'd never use it for commercial work outside of maybe taking inspiration without copying, but I wanna have a ref folder of Things That Made Me Feel Things about a character. It's not planned to be public as of yet, it's just supposed to be a bunch of screenshots in my drafts, but I'd like to maybe one day make it public once the fic was complete. (I already have your blog linked in my drafts actually, so if it goes public I'm not gonna forget.) I just want to make sure you're comfortable with me using your poetry for fanfic of all things

It's cool if not and have a great day! I still think your poetry is great and evocative and all

hi, anon! you're all good, i prommy. so glad you like the quiz + the poetry, and i would always prefer people come and ask questions if they're uncertain! no trouble at all.

my general stance is that as long as it's clearly credited, i am totally cool with my work being used in personal projects. like you said, i've got a tag for the things that people make! i love to see what people create. if it's for a noncommercial creative project then i would say there's no need to ask beforehand (unless it would make you more comfortable to ask, in which case go ahead and i'll almost certainly say yes <3). my only thing is that if you post it, please tag me in it/send it to me so that i can reblog it here for people to see!

if there are any questions about using my work that anyone has, feel free to ask. i don't think i've got anything particular going on outside of common practice! same way you'd treat, like, a richard siken poem or smth: you wanna credit it so that people can find the source material, and make sure you're not using it for profit unless you have an understanding with that author. i trust you all to be decent about it <3 kiss kiss go out and make your cool little things so that i can be delighted and amazed with them

[discojupiters]

I'm like genuinely angry at myself for finding Pete Townshend attractive

[imaginarianisms]

more asoiaf comparisons, parallels & antiparallels to the first dance of the dragons vs the second & final dance of the dragons (& possibly the sixth blackfyre rebellion): the blacks being daenerys i targaryen's supporters, the golds being aegon vi targaryen's supporters, tommen baratheon being a close equivalent to gaemon palehair & his mother essie & sylvenna sand which may be interpreted as a parallel with queen cersei lannister & taena merryweather of myr, trystane truefyre being a close equivalent to aegon/young griff & perkin being jon connington & the shepherd being the new high septon the high sparrow, dalton greyjoy being euron i greyjoy's ancestor & the latter surpassing him, alyn waters later alyn velaryon resembling aurane waters later aurane velaryon & finishing what their ancestors started. history repeats itself.