#kas Eddie munson

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three Four Five

Eddie smells fresh and clean, his hair is fluffy and...really quite long now. Steve is vaguely aware that cutting curly hair is like, a separate thing to cutting straight hair. Like a totally different thing that needs to be learned. But still, Eddie doesn’t want to get an actual hair cut, and he seems to have a strong aversion to the idea of going outside and dealing with strangers, but his bangs are really getting in the way now, so Steve just carefully snips, a little at a time, not taking too much off. Steve uses his fingers to fluff Eddie’s bangs, snipping again at the curls that are longer than the others, “what do you think?”

Eddie stands, inspecting himself in the mirror, “yeah. Thanks Steve.”

He uses the towel to flick stray hairs off his face, wafting his shirt a little, scars showing at his midriff. He catches Steve looking, so Steve shuffles away, making an excuse, “I’ll get a broom.”

Steve sweeps while Eddie wipes stray hairs off the counter. “Anything else I can help with?” Steve offers.

Eddie sighs, looking a little squirely for a second, before he clearly comes to a decision, “I, the kids have been...asking me to run a game?”

“Right,” Steve starts slowly. He knows Eddie has the books out sometimes, knows he’s planning campaigns when he has the energy to do it, but he blows the kids off every time and they don’t push, clearly able to sense Eddie’s still...recovering.

“I think I want to try...I’ve got an idea for a campaign, just a little one. Just an afternoon.”

“Of course, I think...that’s good. If you feel up to it. Do you need my...help?” Steve has no idea how he could possibly help.

“Yeah...could I...talk you through the campaign, see what you think? And on the day, would you help me set up?”

“Yeah, yeah of course. Anything you need, okay?”

“Okay...thank you.”

“They won’t concentrate if they’re hungry, trust me.”

Eddie just watches as Steve makes up a tray of sandwiches. Some deli meat and cheese, some just cheese, and some he pushes his luck with, adding lettuce and cucumber to the mix. Who knows, they might eat it.

He has eggs boiling, and when the timer dings he cools them in the sink, tipping away the boiling water and running cold over them so he can peel them, “want an egg?” He offers one to Eddie, who, surprisingly, takes it, eating it in small bites.

Eddie’s more of a grazer, and he rarely sits and eats a full meal with Steve. Steve just keeps making extra of whatever he’s having, just telling Eddie where it is. It’s at least half gone most of the time, so Steve takes it as a win.

There’s a bowl of boiled eggs, a tray of sandwiches, a big serving bowl of chips and jugs of fruit juice out on the side by the time Steve is done. “I dilute the juice a little,” Steve confesses, “too much sugar in it. Those kids are hyper enough.”

Eddie actually smiles.

Steve moves the table and chairs while Eddie watches, “you got your map? And your shield thingy?”

Eddies goes, coming back laden with his books and his notes. A second trip brings out the hand drawn map, the shield thing that he unfolds in front of the seat at the head of the table.

“I think you’re going to do great,” Steve tells him. Eddie just nods, extra quiet today.

Maybe he’s saving his energy up for the kids. Or maybe it’s nerves, who knows? Either way he’s fiddling with his hair, starring at nothing, free arm wrapped tightly around himself. Steve can’t leave that.

Eddie almost startles, when he gets close, not realizing until the last second that Steve’s in front of him, “hey, come on, it’s okay,” and Eddie accepts the hug easily. Eddie sighs big in Steve’s embrace, settling, “you smell different to him,” Eddie whispers.

“Better or worse?”

“Neither...just different.”

Steve swallows thickly, giving one last squeeze before they part. Steve finds things to do in the kitchen while he tries to gather himself together, the kids will be here any minute.

The kids are watching a movie. Steve’s pretty sure the evening went well; whenever he stuck his head in the dining room, they all seemed engrossed, at least. Every now and again, there would be raised voices, or cheering, so, yeah, Steve figures they had a good time.

When Nancy’s car pulls up in the drive, Eddie tells Steve, “I’ll be a minute,” and then sheepishly slips out the front door.

Steve sees him in the passenger seat, talking to Nancy. He figures something emotional. Probably. Something Steve is too stunted to handle. Steve’s glad really, that Eddie has the girls to talk to about all this stuff. And then immediately feels a little guilty for escaping the burden of whatever that conversation is.

Steve knows there’s something up, from the quiet way Eddie’s watching him. He has something on the tip of his tongue, Steve can tell; it doesn’t come until the next day.

“I’m...moving back in with Wayne. Nancy said she’d help with my stuff, tomorrow, probably.”

It feels out of left field, Steve made unsteady by it for a second before he redirects. Eddie is an adult, and Wayne is family, Steve can’t keep him here.

He remembers the state of Eddie’s room, the stench of alcohol and stale sweat and fresh vomit, “will you be alright?”

“Yeah I...I’m pretty sure I’m done with the drink now, if that’s what you’re asking?”

It kind of is what Steve’s asking, but also, it isn’t, “well. Kind of. But...besides that, will you be okay?”

Eddie shrugs, “I think I need to...find some work, or something. Start standing on my own two feet, if I can. Be a...person.”

Two days ago Eddie couldn’t even face getting a haircut because he’d have to speak to a stranger, so it all kind of stinks of bull to Steve, “if that’s...what you need to do. But...you know you can always be here right? No matter what? Don’t feel like you have to go, or anything.”

“No...I know. You’re...you’re a really good guy Steve. And I...appreciate everything, you know? Really.”

“Yeah, I mean, yeah, no worries.”

It happens way too fast. Eddie’s meager belongings are boxed, his clothes are in trash bags, and apparently Wayne has redecorated Eddie’s room at the new trailer.

“I could have taken you?”

“It’s fine...Nancy’s good to help,” Eddie pulls a pensive face, "I really gotta’ get my van sorted, she hasn’t even been started for...months. Hell, I don’t even know if she will start. I should...go and deal with that.”

“Okay.”

Steve carries out two boxes and then makes himself scarce, doing a final once over. It’s not like Eddie’s going far; if he leaves something here by accident, Steve can just drop it out to him, it’s not like it would be an issue.

Still, he finds some last bits of clothes, forgotten in the dryer. Steve folds them before he carries them from the utility, stopping at the corner of the lounge, just out of sight. He shouldn’t listen to Eddie and Nancy’s hushed conversation, but he does.

“Wayne’s fine,” Nancy’s voice is low enough Steve has to strain to hear it, “he’s fine if you’re here or there. You need to do what’s best for you Eddie.”

“I can’t...I want to stay here.”

“Then-”

Eddie cuts her off with a frustrated noise, speaks with a fierce whisper, “I love him. I love him so much it hurts because I don’t know if it’s him I love or some magical Steve I dreamed up, okay? He keeps, doing things Nancy. You don’t understand. He keeps being so nice, and good and just...Steve. He’s just so much like my Steve and I can’t fucking stand it any more, okay?”

“Okay,” she shushes him, comforts him, “hush, okay, it’s okay. It’ll be okay, whatever you need.”

Steve takes the clothes back to the dryer; he’ll pretend to find them in a couple of days.

[mister-anomaly]

starting off my return strong with a classic: itty bitty bat eddie

[obligatedart]

Eddie Munson grew up poor. He learned not to be wasteful. To cut the mold from the edge of the cheese. To freeze the leftovers. Habits like that stick with you, even after you become a vampire-like being. So when the fight is over and Steve is covered in blood, not a single drop will be wasted

[2jihiir0]

be careful what you wish for .. 🦇

[happyvoltz]

how we feeling 2022 i mean 2024

[lulalulens]

So I saw Nosferatu and of course I had to steddify it (:

[paradimeshifts7]

My gift for @hellfxresundays for the #SteddieWinterExchange

Had sooo much fun working on a little Kas Eddie predator/prey piece ♥️

Accompanying ficlet here

[whathehonestfuk]

Vecna captures steve and is torturing him/ giving him a slow death because steve and the rest of the party have been a thorn in his side

after 4 different rounds of this shit steve prides himself on his ability to take pain so he takes it as quietly as he can even bitching and taunting when he can trying to buy time or his own sanity til he can get out or someone comes to rescue him

but in the end steve is only human so he ends up screaming

Kas! Eddie hearing it and having that sound burn any and all of vecnas mind control away letting him scoop a badly injured steve and get them both the fuck out of there

[taylsart]

excited for season 5 to become a feral boyfriend romcom

[jemmacdraws]

hey it’s 2024 and im still drawing kas eddie ♥️

[eddie panel only]

Did I plan this? No. Did I think about it at all before attempting to organise it? No. Is there a reason he doesn’t have a shirt? Also no. Enjoy!

[419jhat]

[arstyrannus]

More angsty zine art 🖤

[stevieschrodinger]

Everything is going slowly foggy. The fear is fading. Eddie's vaguely aware that it's probably because he's dying. What was terrifying a couple of minutes ago, is only vaguely of interest now. An ephemeral pressure on the back of his brain. Present, yet easy to ignore.

All he can taste is his own blood, but it's not so bad. At least he can tell Dustin how much he loves him. And Steve's there. Steve Harrington. Who knew he would turn out to be such a great guy? So, yeah. It all feels alright.

Eddie feels sleepy, vaguely aware that he's, actually, probably dying.

He closes his eyes.

There's a strange sense of vertigo, strange enough that Eddie notices he's standing up before he notices that someone's kissing him. It's a soft press of lips. It's wonderful.

Eddie blinks his eyes open, and from an inch away, he's looking at Steve Harrington.

He's standing in a kitchen. it's nice. Eddie's clean; he's wearing sweats and a tee. Barefoot. The kitchen smells like coffee, and sun is shining in through the window.

Somewhere in the house, a child sequels; Eddie startles. "Steve?" He asks, carefully. "I mean...not that it isn't-"

The child comes barreling into the room. It's a little girl. She's wearing the smallest Dio shirt Eddie's ever seen. She throws herself at Eddie's legs, screaming "Papa!"

Eddie has no idea what his face is doing as he looks down at this little girl, but Steve is taking his hand, tugging it, Eddie looks up, "it happened again, didn't it? You forgot again?"

"I...what?"

Steve scoops up the little girl, throwing her over his shoulder, she squeals again, laughing like this is the best thing ever, "come on pumpkin patch, Papa's not feeling so hot today and auntie Robin's going to be here in two whole minutes."

He looks back to Eddie, mouthing 'just wait, okay?'

Eddie, at a loss, just nods.

He creeps to the doorway, watching, fascinated, as Steve Harrington fixes the little girls hair into pig tails. Helps her get her socks straight. Helps her tie the laces on her sneakers. Gets her back pack on her, "eat your carrot sticks today, okay Ronnie?"

'Ronnie,' Eddie mouths to himself.

Watches as Steve puts her little hand into Robin's, standing on the front porch. Robin looks different. Older. She's smartly dressed.

Steve whispers something to her, and she looks at Eddie. Smiles a sad smile. They leave.

Steve stands there for a moment, waves them off, then closes the door. He seems to steal himself, and then he turns and comes back to Eddie, "I have to go to work, but, come on, let me show you something."

Eddie follows Steve into an office, there's shit everywhere, "I don't come in here often, your mess drives me fucking batshit," Steve digs into a desk drawer, brings out a notebook. "I have no idea what's in here, I've never read it. Something about...what happened. You did die. You were oxygen deprived long enough to cause a brain injury, so sometimes you...forget everything. After the second time it happened, you started writing letters to yourself. So, yeah...you call it your instruction manual, I get it for you when this happens."

It takes Eddie what feels like a really fucking long time to process this, and he can't help but notice that Steve's eyes are wet, Eddie feels crushingly guilty about it.

"Okay so what do I...do?"

Steve shrugs, "read it, I guess. You add to it whenever anything important happens...Eddie...just, the bats, they did a number on you...when you, when you look at the scars, the first time, just, brace yourself, okay and...don't forget that I love you, no matter what, I love you."

And Steve just...leaves the house. Leaves Eddie in this absolute disaster of an office. Leaves him holding a notebook that's ratty and untidy and feels like it's bursting at the seams.

Eddie reads.

So, I'm going to try and keep this simple, but I'm you, from the past, and our dumb ass has fucking brain damage...

You're not going to fucking believe this...we bagged Steve Harrington...

Hold on to your hat big boy, but we got fucking published! And if you're reading this, then you are in for a treat, because it means you get to read our genius for the first time all over again...

Okay, so this one was a bad one, we initially, didn't react so well, so, here's what I was worried about, and I'll talk you through it...

So, I need you to not fuck this up for us, okay? So, this is the Steve Harrington play book. The man is romantic, buy flowers, do nice shit. I cannot stress this enough - just pick up your crap man, he hates it when the place is messy. Now, we have to get it right so here's everything I know, I'll start at the top and work down. He loves having his hair played with, and tugged, but not too hard, gentle but firm, there's a sweet spot. The neck, the whole thing is an erogenous zone, I really can't downplay the importance of the neck...

We bought a fucking house! Look at it! Just look at it! And Eddie does, because there's a Polaroid stuck to the page.

So, this might sound dumb, and I probably should have written to you sooner, but...Steve jizzed in a cup for Robs, and Nancy turkey basted it, you know. Anyway, the point is...Rob's pregnant. With our baby. And then me and Nance got drunk, like, to celebrate, and she got all sad that her and Robin weren't having a baby, stay with me, I know this is mad as shit, but Nancy wanted our kid and their kid to grow up together....

Look, I don't know if it's the stress of like, imminent fatherhood, but we've been forgetting a lot lately, so, here's the plan for when Rob's in labor, and everything you've talked to Steve about when it comes to being the stay at home parent, okay...

The next page is just a Polaroid, a little scrunched up face. A little pink potato swaddled in blankets, and underneath it says 'Ronnie Jamie Harrington'...

And the next page, another Polaroid, another scrunched up face, another little pink potato swaddled in blankets, and underneath it says 'Stephanie Edwina Wheeler'...

Steve comes home. He looks exhausted. Like, drained. And, worried and scared and pale and lots of other things Eddie can't even begin to imagine. Eddie holds his arms out and Steve practically throws himself into them, "how long does it take, for me to get back to normal?"

Steve shrugs, "it's different every time, but it's a good sign you're still here, sometimes you run. Those times are the worst ones."

Six weeks later, Eddie writes to himself, "do not, under any circumstances, run away..."

Eddie thinks he's seeing things. Thinks maybe he's going senile. But he hasn't forgotten for...well, it's been years now. At least seven or eight. And yeah, Ronnie might be about to finish high school and Steve might be stressed to fuck over her college applications, but...Eddie's glad. He's glad she's spreading her wings. He's glad they managed to produce a stand up human being.

He's really glad her and Steph are trying for the same colleges, they're always going to have each other.

But yea...he's worried his mind is kind of...slipping. Hasn't told Steve. Doesn't want to worry him. They're both sprouting a few gray hairs, no need to add to those.

But sometimes. Sometimes when Eddie looks out of the window, he thinks, for a moment, that the sky is dark and...it looks like snow?

And sometimes, Eddie catches himself in the mirror, and he's sure he's dirty. A mess. Covered in blood but...no. He walks back a step, checks again. Everything is fine.

Sometimes he's sees movement out of the corner of his eye.

Sometimes, in the beat of the music or the rumble of the car engine, he swears he hears things. Sometimes a voice. Sometimes it sounds like they're yelling.

Sometimes it sounds like Steve.

And once, he blinked awake, Steve bringing him a coffee. But it wasn't Steve, for the time between startled, half asleep blinks, it was Vecna.

It gets worse.

Something isn't right. The house is empty, and it shouldn't be.

He can hear Steve, but he can't find him. And that's silly because the house isn't that big. He searches and searches, growing more frantic. He calls back to Steve, but Steve...doesn't seem to hear him.

There's something dim about the light, but the light has always been that way, hasn't it? Something...dusty, in the air. Eddie feels like he's dreaming. He has to be dreaming; there's a crack in the living room wall. A crack that spreads and lengthens until the whole house is crumbling and Eddie can see clearly now that the sky here flashes red.

That it's always been flashing red.

How did he not see before? The dust on every surface? The pages of his notebook are blank. Eddie knows. He's always known.

Steve.

Steve is here. He's hanging from Eddie's fist, bruised and bloodied and begging Eddie. Begging Eddie to stop this, to hear him, to see him. It's Steve.

It's Eddie's Steve.

Next to him, Vecna says, "finish it."

Eddie has something in his hand, the hilt of something he's sure of, long and sharp and dependable.

Eddie doesn't think, he just moves.

He drops Steve.

He doesn't need to look. Eddie turns, and he swings.

Part Two

[2jihiir0]

really quick sketch !!

[obligatedart]

Eddie got peckish and went for a little midnight snack

[archivequinn]

Eddie Munson Aesthetics

owner of the original photos: ashurgharavi