#so I have to split it
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The Abyssborn Part 4: Traits
Physical - There is no one trait to tell that one is an Abyssborn. However, Abyssborn do tend to naturally stand out physically due to adapting to an 'uncommon' physical trait to that world. Harbingers tend to adapt the a trait from their non-Abyss or adopted species to appear 'striking' in some manner. They also tend to be wonky in terms of height. They have a listed height but it will not always appear as such since it usually changes with their headspace. So it can make one seem physically imposing despite being smaller or even if they are the tallest, they can seem no different than everyone else in the room if they shrink in on themselves.
It also doesn't necessarily have to be every one but it has been a trend that their eyes seem to shift with their emotions too and give the hint of something about them. For example, Tannim's eyes seem to be like flames barely contained when he is angry and they dim and almost revert to a green color (his human eye color) when he is sad. Balmoral's tend to show a vastness of the heavens and sparkle and shine under his enthusiasm but it also turns dark and sucks others in like a black hole when he is pissed.
Aura/'Scent' - A certain game gave the perfect name for the aura of natural born Abyssborn: existence outside the domain. They are not from 'here' or any other place. They do not belong to any world and will tend to feel 'foreign' to those that can sense that sort of thing. However they can disguise their 'scent' with varying degrees of success. The best at it are ancient Abyssborn, whom have been through countless worlds to understand how to construct an air that could fool even divinity and those intertwined with a realm. Harbingers will initially come off as solely their non-Abyss parent's race. However connecting to the adapted being's traits...it starts to drift to some combination of the non-Abyss race and the adapted being's. But there is a faint undercurrent of 'something else' that hints to their Abyssborn blood. Balmoral is something of an exception as he does seem to have fae and Abyssborn but not so much his adapted being.
Dimensional Interaction - Abyssborn can travel other dimensions/realms/whatever we're gonna call it. If it isn't their homeworld, then the world always has a chance of kicking them out at some point. Which for natural ones, this is every world. For Harbingers, it's their original world and the offshoots of that world. They do not experience weakness or sickness when they make these jumps however Harbingers can experience a bout of sickness from a major shift of the 'strongest being' within the world they live. Tannim is a kinda funny exception because his homeworld is one that had the strongest being shift so often, it doesn't bother him. Natural Abyssborn when they land gain knowledge about the world's 'rules' and how their logic works. So they basically have a grasp on what is or isn't possible, what the people are like and an idea of how to navigate. Harbingers don't. They have to learn about the world like any other fish out of water however they start off with much stronger ability than their parents.
Time Interaction - Abyssborn are time sensitive. This means that they tend to notice the shifts in a given timeline. So if there is someone else messing with the time line, they may notice what that person is up to but they never have an obligation to stop it. Abyssborn are not affected by time shifts but Harbingers are but can start to unravel the 'truth' of that given timeline. So say that someone went back and prevented a very evil dude from dying and the world sucks. The Harbinger that is living in that timeline with have their lives altered by this change but they have visions and flare ups to show them what was supposed to be. What they do with that knowledge is on them.
Interactions with other versions of themselves in different worlds and times gets pretty funky for Harbingers (and it's pretty much only Harbingers since the Abyssborn does not have establishment in timelines, they are only 'tethered' by their Harbinger child. So whatever is their background in relation to their child is what is 'true'). For most dimensional changes, they simply both exist and do not tend to meet. The 'visiting' version of the Harbinger does gain the memories and knowledge of the version that already exists so they do have working knowledge when they are there. This also works with 'visiting' dimensional anomalies. So someone like Noita's daughter, Lucille, who is from a dimension hopping family interacting with Tannim will trigger those memories from that time as well. So when she comes up to him, he is aware of who she is and why she knows him.
For most timeline changes, they take over the them of that time if it exists. They can and have been able to manifest their 'current' selves but it is pretty exhausting to do because...well, they're messing with the world order and they are away from their technical 'true' place. If it is a completely different version of themselves (someone that isn't in this time line at all) then they will not always have awareness of who they are although there are snatches of this. This is actually what Tannim experiences, he has lived this timeline's life with only some remembrances of his 'actual' life. It is unknown when he came into awareness but by current time of this blog, he is aware of who he originally is.
#{The Abyssborn}#y'all I thought this was gonna be short#but I've been staring#and then when I scrolled up to check something#I was like#'oh. oh no.'#so I have to split it#also if you notice I don't put as much for the natural Abyssborn#it's because#a) I do not have one I write outside of Tannim's dad#and b) I don't find them interesting#they're basic OP guys that tend to lean towards apathy#which is not as fun#'Kirei you could make it fun'#do you want this to turn into a novel?#do you?#Do you????
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William Afton winning that “idgaf” award in FNAF
#myart#chloesimagination#comic#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#fnaf fanart#fnaf movie#vanessa shelly#fnaf vanessa#vanessa afton#william afton#steve raglan#happy spooky month everyone!!#almost fnaf movie anniversary coming up so wanted to draw some stuff for it#MORE VANESSA THOUGHTS LETS GOO!!#now featuring some William thoughts#I can imagine that shooting her own dad was hard for Vanessa#even though he’s a monster it’s obvious that like#she still cares about him in some way from the brainwashing he’s don’t to her#kinda proves she’s different than her father#meanwhile William did not have that much of a problem#like I know he looked sad for a second after stabbing Vanessa#but he did decide in a split second that was the best choice#William when you catch these hands
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FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!
FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT
MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)
#undertale#deltarune#undertale fanart#deltarune fanart#utdr#crossover#crossover comic#twin runes#twin runes comic#twin runes au#my art#kris dreemurr#frisk#lesslo#don't pick a fight with frisk#they know what they're doing#I dunno how well it translated#but I tried to incorporate the whole soul mode thing with frisk's broach#they switch stances for movement#blue to jump good and green to remain steadfast#also is that red soul lore I'm smelling?#where have I seen that split soul imagry before...?#THIS#THIS FRIGGIN THING COST ME MY SANITY#also I've never drawn fight scenes before#so please bear with me
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Part 4/5 of my MLP Infection AU!!
This was the part I was most excited for, I literally drew this whole thing just to explain my fan pony species lol
#mlp#mlp infection au#my little pony#mlp horror#mlp fim#sunset shimmer#zecora#This whole time I was like I have to get through this. to draw MONSTER PONIES#Sleigh ponies can have anywhere from 4-8 legs#Also can have doubled ears and double or even triple tails#They also have the split pupils and a rainbow hair streak#Unicorns can get split horns and pegasi (or alicorns) can get multiple wings#be rough if you end up with an uneven number. LOL#No rougher than eating meat for the rest of your life when you were previously a grass-eating horse though#I tried coming up w cool name for the vaccine so its HPE as in “Hope”
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A warm up of Solas! Trying to remember how to draw him. It's been forever, bear with me 😵💫
#dragon age#veilguard#dragon age veilguard#da4#solas#my art#been watching my timeline split in half and form teams ever since the trailer dropped it's so funny we are so back#I want to make my rook too!! I have a vague idea but I need more info so I can match the vibes properly arrghhh#I'm 'glowing eyes' number one fan as you probably know and the new glow shader they are using is so good I'm delighted
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Lan Wangji goes to Lotus Pier (No relation to the AU of the same name)
[First] Prev <–-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#better drawn mdzs#mdzs#lan wangji#wei wuxian#Another split type comic because I decided to be ambitious.#This flashback is currently beating my ass. There are so many timeskips within the flashback! My flow and pacing are wheezing!#I loved how this scene starts with the crowd's point of view. The observations and gossip add a lot.#And it helps reposition us to what the external perspective is on these two. Namely that 'they don't get along.'#Tensions are known! Even here in Nouveau Lotus Pier.#Ah...Lan Wangji never got a chance to see the Lotus Pier of Wei Wuxian's childhood and adolescence...did he?#It's not the same. He's not the same. Call them by the same name and people will know what you mean...#...but the first version - the one with the fond memories - is gone for good.#It's sort of interesting isn't it? How names can hold so much power and still be hollow?#We often get stuck over past versions of things. Be it ourselves or other people or places.#Change is scary but the truth is nothing ever stays the same. It's always moving. You're always moving.#It's okay to mourn the past. Maybe it's people you lost or the person you hoped to be. Let yourself feel the grief.#And then? Then you grow around that pain and keep on going. If you feel like you can't - remember you don't have to do it alone.#A side note: Listening to the tossing flowers extra is so essential for this scene. It's cute and gives us more of [redacted]#What's [redacted]? You'll see in the next comic!
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"There's a power in seeing yourself in another, in resemblance..."
#THE EYEBROWWSSSS#the mentally ill part of me was like oh they HAVE to show pietro and or wanda here right#alas#wish they had built up erik's relationships with everyone and not just rogue LOL#the camaraderie with erik and scott was nice for the one episode they had it in#like they coulda had a whole thing with erik splitting the team#i swear hank was gonna be team mags cause of what he said to trish#guess not#they needed to split the team twice so#97 is a speedrun unfortunately#dadneto#x men 97#x men 97 spoilers#magneto#quicksilver#erik lehnsherr#max eisenhardt#pietro maximoff#screenshots#dee screams#marvel
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🍃 couldn't decide on which of jin's hairstyles i liked best so i combined them [id in alt]
#zuko#zuko fanart#atla fanart#avatar the last airbender fanart#avatar the last airbender#avatar fanart#atla#jin avatar#zuko x jin#look yall know i love zukka and i love mai and zuko but jin will always have a soft spot in my heart#i never read the comics and have no intention of doing so but heard that mai broke up with him? and if he can't be with mai i do think it#would be endearing to have him be with jin. and b funny for her to suddenly have the firelord show up at her door step asking for a date#and that he could have a connection to where iroh spends his time and split time between there and the fire nation capital#she continues to call him lee#edit: in the show she wears her hair in braids one time and the a ponytail the second time and i combined them for this
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At what point do you start seeing one in the other?
At what point do you start looking at the devil like a friend?
#immortal au#dca au#dca fandom#dca community#doodles#sunshine draws#dca fnaf#dca moon#oc#immortal au art 🎨#realized the comics i had in the making were too sun centric so i doodles my boy moon to compensate#their relationship is a mess and im here for it#i like to think that it was at this point they started having an idealized vision of Moon#not as in 'he's perfect and can do no wrong' but they try SO hard to convince themselves that “moon would never do that” that it snowballs#and the perceptions they have of moon and virus moon are split to further apart from each other-#that they start seeing them as two different people altogether#theres moon. and there is virus. they cant be the same.#but its hard when you see one in the eyes of the other#the way they hold your face is the same
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These two have such a funny vibe, had to take Zelda out of half their games because you know she’d just be telepathically negging him the whole time. Theyre besties, theyre potentially related, she’s mentally whispering ‘Sandwich’ in his ear whenever he’s trying to focus.
Edit: Added funny page in celebration of me not having to rework these designs for the new game
#tloz#link#princess zelda#a link to the past#oracle of seasons#oracle of ages#links awakening#art#my art#redesign#loz redesigns round 2#i did decide to merge in the oracle games this time when i didnt last time#her dress being purple is coming from her alttp sprite#as is the darker hair color#i used the buns to have the ends create the swoopies from the game art#plus to match the oracle games sprite for her#meanwhile with link i didn’t want to quite do the florescent pink with him#nor did i like the darker magenta i did with magazine link#so i went with a sortve pink-brown like what the pok-mon games give as an option#his hat also splits at the end like bunny ears#i thought it was funny#for the funny page addition i wanted links mermaid tail to look a bit like a fish ate him because its funny#also im making fun of the fucking fourteen item trading sequence in links awakening#boy what is Wrong with you
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adding to the "there should have been more genuine tension within the seven" train of thought, it would have been funny if the Argo II, technically being a ship, meant it fell under Percy's power domain and he could control it all at whim, rendering all the carefully crafted controls Leo built useless if Percy felt like being an asshole
#Leo “this ship is my destiny” Valdez vs Percy “ships fall under my daddy's domain which means Im the captain now ” Jackson#real talk we could have gotten a part where the seven disagreed on where they should be going next#maybe its a 4-3 split#and its just getting more and more heated (with Leo and Percy on opposing sides)#and it turns into this thing where they're both trying to direct the ship#which only gets the others involved and pissed#(actually its been so long since I read hoo I can't remember if the argo 2 was self-flying or if Leo had to actively guide it)#mine
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SIMBLRWEEN WEEK 2: HORRORSCOPES!
HAPPY HALLOWEiNER EVERYONE! Hope you've all had the ookiest, kookiest, megalamookiest, ding-dang dookiest, spooky season this year! So to wrap simblrween 2024 up I'll be posting a treat themed after the scariest creature known to man: astrology bitches.
INFORMATION:
None of this is my original work! All mesh credit goes to the items' original creators: @simpliciaty-cc, @serenity-cc, @christopher067, and @arthabee!
Set contains accessories for Teen ➤ Elder Females
Polycount is 6.5-7.5k for each the Zodiac 1 and 2 Necklaces and 1.5-1.6k for the Starsign Necklaces.
anything that looks weird in CAS looks fine in game.
Everything has all morphs, LODS and custom thumbnails
Static preview pictures, and download links for everything is under the cut.
Still Hate Astrology?
Fine, Coward 😒. There are 6 technically 7 other Accessories for you too, but they're hidden under the cut as punishment for you being boring.
tagging: @xto3conversionsfinds \\ @kpccfinds\\ @sssvitlanz\\ @pis3update
[PICK AND CHOOSE]
[FULL SET, MERGED]
[FULL SET, SEPARATED]
[PICK AND CHOOSE]
[FULL SET, MERGED]
[FULL SET, SEPARATED]
[PICK AND CHOOSE]
[FULL SET, SEPARATED]
[FULL SET, MERGED]
@christopher067: Bushel Necklace // 5k Poly // [Download Here] @christopher067: Divine Necklace // 1.9k Poly // [Download Here] @christopher067:Luxury Earrings V1 // 3.8k Poly // [Download Here]
@christopher067: Easy Necklace // 1.5k Poly // [Download Here] @simpliciaty-cc: Elise Rings //6.5k Poly// [Download Right] [Download Left] @arethabee: Quinn Earrings // 2.3k Poly // [Download Here]
[PICK AND CHOOSE]
[ALL ZODIAC NECKLACES MERGED]
[ALL ZODIAC NECKLACES UNMERGED]
[ALL EXTRAS MERGED] [ALL EXTRAS UNMERGED]
[ALL ZODIACS + EXTRAS MERGED]
[ALL ZODIACS + EXTRAS UNMERGED]
#ts3cc#s3cc#ts3 cc#sims 3 cc#ts3 download#ts3#s3 cc#ts3 dl#s3 dl#sims 3#ts3 accessories#4t3#[MINE]#I am a proud astrology bitch btw#Gemini☀️ Aries 🌙 Cancer ⬆️ baby#Crazy thing is this isn't the huge accessories pack I've been hyping up for months at this point#That was supposed to be my 1.5k followers gift. But I'm about to hit 1.5k way earlier than expected.#So now some of that set will probably be split into Christmas advent gifts and I'll rework it sometime in January to have it ready for 1.75
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Told you I'll be back with some traditional art.
#bg3#shadowheart#wolfheart#connecticut tav#werewolf#traditional art#I have plenty more but decided to split it into few posts#but I think I'll answer asks before that#wolf#crow#it was so fun drawing skulls again
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ARCANE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS: 1x05 - "Everybody Wants to Be My Enemy" ↳ "Undercity's gonna eat you alive."
#arcane#arcaneedit#arcane league of legends#league of legends arcane#vi#league of legends#vi arcane#arcane vi#animationedit#media: arcane#type: gif#s1 ep5#gonna take a break from making arcane gifs and not reply to messages for a few days so heres a vi#have some pending stuff queued anyway#the original gif was like 16mb so i had to split it to two gifs 😩it kinda looks better as one gif so that its more fluid but oh well
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Thinking about how Iris knew Feenie, who was all 💖🥰🤭🤪 and then she sees him again 5 years later and he’s all 💀💥🫵😠
#doctorsiren#ace attorney#phoenix wright#feenie#ace attorney fanart#art#digital art#my art#fanart#procreate#it’s giving left brain right brain#and also that episode of phineas and ferb where Candace gets split into the two halves of her personality#don’t worry gang#there is an AU incoming hehehe#Feenie would be into vocaloid tbhhhh#I suddenly have so many thoughts about Feenie
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who did this to you. part 2
🤍🌷 read part 1 here pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie
This is not happening. None of this is happening, he’s… He’s dreaming. He’s high. High as a kite somewhere where reality doesn’t matter, where it can’t fucking reach him and he’s— He’s not panicking behind the wheel with Steve Fucking Harrington bleeding against the passenger side window.
It’s not happening.
Because if it were happening, Eddie would simply throw up. He’d leave his van on the side of the road and run the fuck away. Away from Harrington and his trouble, away from his rattling breath that’s so loud and unsteady, Eddie doesn’t even dare to turn on any sort of music, even though he’s itching for it, his hands clenching and unclenching around the wheel until his knuckles go white.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbles under his breath, barely aware of his surroundings at all, his eyes flitting from Harrington to the red stain against the window, back to the road and then down to the white-knuckled grip and the speckles of dried blood that is decidedly not his.
Lost in his panic and disbelief, Eddie almost runs a red light.
It’s harsh, the way he hits the brakes, and the sound Harrington makes is pathetic enough that Eddie feels like maybe this might actually be happening.
“Sorry,” he breathes, his voice no better than Steve’s — and he’s not the one with a concussion, a broken rib, and that… fucking fear. Of something. Or someone.
Who’s hurting you, Steve?
Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.
He doesn’t even know. He doesn’t wanna know. All he wants is for Harrington to stop fucking bleeding, to keep his eyes wide open and—
“Ed,” the boy says, wheezes, and it sounds like he wanted to say his full name, but had to swallow first. Blood, Eddie thinks. Don’t let it be blood. “Think I’m… ‘M gonna throw up.”
“Please don’t throw up,” Eddie says before he can stop himself, hating how small his voice sounds, how urgent — like that’s the thing to be urgent about. God, he’s such an ass, but he… If Harrington throws up, Eddie will lose it. He knows he will.
He chances a glance over at Steve, who has somehow managed to get his right arm tangled with the handle at the door, keeping himself upright and safe from Eddie’s rather frantic driving style. His head is drooping, moving this way and that against the red-stained glass, and he blinks unseeingly as blood begins to trickle down from his nose and temple again.
He’s making himself small, and Eddie wants to pull him upright and tell him to stay like that, tell him to stop looking so terrible, so horrible, so…
So much like Eddie’s fucking problem.
He hates it. Hates everything about that vision. Boys like Harrington shouldn’t look like this, shouldn’t hold themselves like this, shouldn’t… Shouldn’t have no one but Eddie to take them somewhere safe.
It’s just not tight.
“Don’ wanna throw up,” Steve says at last, the pause too long for Eddie’s liking, and he sounds so solemn about it, yet so helpless, and Eddie kinda wants to scream. Wants Harrington to scream. Anything to stay awake and maybe not ruin his car. Anything to not fucking die in it.
“Tell me something,” he says then, because he knows he has to keep Harrington awake and speaking. Just for another ten, fifteen minutes, he tells himself. “Anything, yeah? Tell me anything. Gotta keep you awake there, you hear me? Sounds great, right, staying awake?”
He’s rambling and he knows it, desperation shining through his words and the god-awful way his voice breaks a little. This is not about him, he knows it isn’t, but still he wants to punch himself, wants to pinch himself and stay fucking calm.
But who could stay calm in a situation like this? The silence is filled with the horrible wheezing and rattling of Harrington’s breath barely audible over the engine, and Eddie has to look over several times to make sure he’s still there, still with him, still alive. His panic spikes each time.
He’s just about to reach over and shake him a little, snap in front of his face to get him back, when—
“I don’t know what.”
It’s quiet, that voice, breathy and tiny and almost invisible, and Eddie wants to scream again.
Tell me why you’re so scared. Tell me why your old buddy did this to you. Hagan would never touch you, so why did he now? Tell me what happened to Hargrove. Tell me why you sound so fucking small.
“Tell me about your…” He fumbles for a moment, taking a sharp left and pretending not to hear the choked-off whimper. Focusing on good things. On normal things. “Your favourite person.”
Eddie cringes at himself the moment the words leave his mouth. Your favourite person? Really, Munson? He scrambles to find something better, something cooler, or maybe something easier like asking his favourite fucking colour, but the overthinking really doesn’t mix well with the already panicked state of his mind. And Eddie just blanks.
Beside him, though, Harrington sits up a little straighter, smearing more blood against his window in the process that Eddie pretends not to feel nauseous about.
God, he never did like blood.
“You wan’ me to tell you ‘bout Rob?”
“Sure, yeah,” Eddie says, a little too loud, a little too shrill, actually running a red light this time because he doesn’t want to brake again and hurt the boy some more. There’s no one around anyway. This is Hawkins. Fucking dead-end of a town. It doesn’t need red lights, or boys who look like Harrington. “Rob. Tell me ‘bout him, what’s he like? Favourite colour, all that shit.”
“Her.”
Eddie blinks, looking over to find Harrington looking at him — or trying to, his eyes still drooping and empty. But it’s a good sign. People don’t die when they look at you, right?
“What?”
“Her,” Harrington says again. “An’ blue. Deep ‘n’ dark blue. She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.”
Eddie doesn’t really listen, doesn’t really process what Steve is saying, already thinking of the next question just to keep him talking. But then he continues on his own.
“Mornin’ blue dep— de… makes her sad, though. So only dark blue. Says it’s why we’re friends. You’re so blue, Stevie. Got half’a my clothes, still, she does. All the blues.”
That's... really fucking endearing, actually.
And he says it with a half-smile, too, bloody and pathetic as it is. Like it’s a secret that only the two of them are in on, only Steve and Robin. It’s kind of sweet.
Not for the first time today does Eddie find himself wondering, Who the hell are you, Steve Harrington?
He exhales through his nose, ignoring the way he’s started to shake with all that panic that’s been sitting inside him for a little too long now with no way to let it out.
“Not much longer,” he mumbles under his breath again, or maybe he just thinks very hard. Maybe he doesn’t know where he is at all. It’s like he blanks every few seconds, too busy thinking and trying not to.
Before he can tell Harrington to talk some more about that girlfriend of his, there’s a pained, confused little whine that forcefully tears Eddie’s eyes from the street for a moment only to meet hazel eyes widened in confusion.
“Wh— Where… Where’re we going?”
Oh no.
“Why’m I in y—“
“You’re safe,” Eddie interrupts him, speaking slowly because suddenly his tongue is too big for his mouth, and not entirely sure if he’s reassuring Harrington or himself. “You’re hurt, okay? It’s bad, but it wasn’t me. I’m taking you to… to someone. My uncle Wayne, he’s— He knows about that kinda stuff. You were telling me about Rob. Remember her, Blue? How about you tell me some more, hm?”
Eddie’s voice is unsteady with worry and fear and panic, and he’s doing a piss-poor job at hiding it. The thing is, he’s going to cry. He’s actually, absolutely, no-doubt-about-it going to scream and cry and punch a fucking hole into something when this day is over, when his van is no longer bloody, and when Steve Harrington won’t have reason to look at him any longer.
Oh, how he wants to skip forward. Past the nausea, past the fear, past everything that’s happening right now. Maybe past the insomnia that will come with a day like this, too.
Past all of it.
Or better yet, travel back in time and never get to that fucking boat house.
But he can’t. So he breathes.
At first, through the ringing in his ears and the racing of his own heart so loud and so forceful he’s shaking with it, he worries that Steve’s gone silent again, that he’s gonna ask again, ask what happened, ask where he is, ask all the questions that make Eddie feel like he’s been doused in ice water because they’re questions that only get asked in stupid movies where terrible things happen to people.
But then he hears him mumbling something. Numbers.
“What’cha mumbling there, Blue?”
“‘S her number,” Steve says, his voice slurring again, worse than before, and Eddie hits the gas a little harder. “‘S jus’ her number. Robbie’s number.”
And he mumbles again. Over and over and over, until Eddie couldn’t forget it if he wanted to, ingrained into the frayed edges of his mind now.
He lets him ramble, lets him repeat the number until the words slur together and he can’t separate a four from a nine anymore. Each time Harrington hesitates, each time he stumbles over the words or forgets a digit, Eddie wants to punch the wheel.
He doesn’t. He only grips it tighter and counts down the turns he takes, the streets he passes, the fucking trees that are familiar, before, finally, the trailer park comes into view.
The sob Eddie lets out when, with shaking, trembling hands he pulls up to his home to find his uncle having a smoke outside is deafening to his ears after the quiet weakness of Harrington’s voice.
It startles him, makes him stop his rambles and sit up straighter when Eddie finally kills the engine. For a moment, without the steady, rolling hum, the car is filled with the small, tiny whines Steve makes on each exhale. Like it hurts to even breathe.
“Wha’s wrong?” He asks, but Eddie can’t really hear him. Can’t turn to him, can’t— “Eddie?”
He’s out of the car before he can take hold of another thought, stumbling out of his open door on legs that feel numb and heavy. The urge to cry is back again, the burning in his eyes only getting worse when Wayne takes in the dried blood on his clothes and hands with careful, calculated worry.
“Ed?”
“I didn’t know what— where—- I’m… Wayne, I’m sorry.”
“Slow down, kid,” Wayne says, raising his hands as if to calm a spooked deer. Like Eddie is the one who needs his help. And he is. He really, really is, and he shouldn’t be, because this isn’t about him, but—
Wayne grabs him by the shoulders to keep him still, and only now does Eddie realise he’s shaking again, restlessly moving his weight from one leg to the other. His uncle steadies him, gently pressing down on his shoulders to ground him, and Eddie nearly sobs again.
“Ed. Are you in trouble?”
“No,” Eddie scrambles to say, becoming aware of what this looks like, hiding his hands behind his back on instinct, like that’ll make Harrington’s blood disappear. “‘S not my blood, I didn’t do anything, I swear! I swear. It’s, uh. I just found him. In the boathouse, I found him, and he was… God, he looked so bad, okay, but he didn’t want the hospital, and he was, like, so scared of something, and we don’t even talk, we don’t even look at each other, but I just… I didn’t know what to do, and you know something about concussions and people who were beat to shit and, again, I’m—“
“Eddie,” Wayne says, his voice so calm but so assertive that Eddie shuts up immediately, gladly handing over to controls to his uncle now. “Who’s the kid?”
He nods towards Eddie’s van, where Harrington looks to be halfway unbuckled, but his eyes are closed and his face smushed against the door again, like he just gave up.
“Shit,” Eddie says, adrenaline and panic slowly falling from him with Wayne’s hand on his shoulder. He sags into his uncle and rubs at his face. “It’s Steve. Uh, Steve Harrington, I mean.”
“Okay,” Wayne says, and he’s so calm. So calm. Eddie feels like he’s about to fall apart, and Wayne is the only one keeping him together, with that’d steady, warm hand on his shoulder. “And you promise me he didn’t give you trouble? Or anyone else who’ll come finish what they started?”
Eddie shakes his head profusely, getting a little dizzy with it. “I promise I’m not in trouble. He said Hagan did this to him, was alone when I found him. No trouble, Wayne, I swear, I’m not like that, you know I’m not.”
“Okay,” Wayne says again, and Eddie wants to weep. “I know you’re not like that, but some people are, y’know? You did good, son. You did good. Now help me get him out of that car.”
It takes his uncle tugging him towards the van for Eddie to kick back into motion, nearly falling over his feet turning back around. It’s only Wayne’s “Easy” murmured under his breath that keeps the ground from opening up and swallowing him whole.
He climbs in on the driver’s side while Wayne rounds the car and gets to Harrington’s side.
“Hey there, Blue,” Eddie says, his voice shaking and the nickname slipping again — but it’s easier to call him that than his real name, it’s easier to pretend it’s literally anyone else in here with him, bleeding against his door.
It’s easier to pretend it’s not Harrington’s breath rattling the way it does, easier to pretend those pained groans so high in their cadence they can only count as whines don’t come from Hawkins High’s Golden Boy who graduated a few months ago and was supposed to be done with bullshit like this.
“Come on, up you get,” he tells him, not daring to raise his voice too much.
He looks so frail. Like he’s already broken. Or like he’s trying not to. Like he’s holding on.
Eddie pretends not to think that the hand he places on Steve’s cheek to gently pry him from the window is not the only thing keeping that boy together right now.
Harrington groans, whines, wheezes, but opens his eyes to meet Eddie’s. Jesus, we’re they this blown before? Or this swollen?
“Hey,” Eddie says, just to say something. Just so he won’t have to hold the boy’s face in silence, just so he won’t have to focus on all the blood. Just so he won’t have to hear more questions that people aren’t supposed to ask.
Steve opens his mouth, his breath coming out a little sharper, like he wants to say Hi rather than Where am I? or When will it stop hurting? Like he wants to say How can I help you help me?
Somehow, Eddie manages a smile.
Wayne chooses that moment to open the door — just unclicking it, not pulling yet; giving Eddie enough time to support Harrington, make sure he doesn’t fall.
“Careful,” he whispers, though whether it’s for Wayne, for Steve, or for himself, he can’t quite tell. Maybe it’s a plea to the rest of the world, and to anyone else who will listen.
Steve is still staring at him. That’s probably not a good sign. He leans back a little, turning Steve’s head to make him follow him. Slowly, of course. Gently. Eddie can’t remember ever having touched something like it was going to break if only he looked at it wrong, but somehow he’s hyper-aware of it now.
Because Harrington is staring at him. Entirely too still, like he has no strength, no coordination to do anything but stare. And yet Eddie is the one who, now that the adrenaline has fallen from him, now that he can let someone else take over, now that Harrington doesn’t need him anymore, finds himself unable to look away.
Because Steve is just a boy. And so is Eddie, who can feel Steve’s breath against his wrist. And maybe, out of the two of them, Eddie is the fragile one. The one about to break.
“Blue, you with me?”
Steve nods. Doesn’t speak again. Doesn’t move. Eddie swallows, briefly looking back down at Wayne to see if he’s ready. His uncle nods, ready to catch Harrington should he go down, and Eddie turns back to the boy who’s smeared with his own blood.
“I’m gonna take off your seatbelt now, yeah?” he tells him, not entirely recognising his voice anymore. “That man out there, that is Wayne. My uncle. He’s safe. He’ll take care of you, okay?”
“Safe,” Steve breathes, and that shouldn’t be the one thing he focuses on. It shouldn’t sound so unsure. So insecure. So hopeful, so relieved, so— Fucking earnest.
Swallowing all these thoughts, all this desperation and all those questions, Eddie reaches over Steve, one hand still supporting his head and feeling the overheated skin of Harrington’s cheek against his palm, the hint of stubble and the crust of dried blood. As if in slow motion, not daring to make a wrong move and hurt him more than he already does, Eddie frees him the rest of the way, letting the seatbelt slide into its hold behind his shoulder.
“Careful,” he says again, just to say anything, but he is careful, and his hold on Steve is steady.
“‘M careful. Not gonna break, Eddie.”
“I know.” But maybe I will.
“Good. ‘Cause… Don’ wanna break.”
Eddie smiles, despite everything. “You’re not gonna break, Blue. Wayne’ll catch you.”
Harrington loses his focus then, his eyes glazing over, but the small smile on his lips widens. “Blue. ‘S nice.”
Yeah, Eddie thinks. He kinda is.
Somehow, miraculously, they get Harrington out of the van and into the trailer. He throws up halfway to the doorstep, and Eddie curses under his breath while Wayne talks quietly, asking him yes and no questions that Eddie can’t really hear through the ringing in his ears — a strange mix of fear and relief, a panic not quite over, but soothed by his uncle’s familiar voice; even if it’s not directed at him.
“Don’t worry about it, kid, the next rain’ll take care of that. Stop apologising.”
It throws him then, rather suddenly and violently, watching Wayne supporting Harrington, watching the blood smeared boy with the swelling, angry red bruises in his face. Somehow it’s different, seeing him in his home.
This was always a safe space. Always void of everything terrible.
And now there’s a broken boy on his doorstep who’s not Eddie.
He remembers the fear, the panic, the plea for no hospital, Eddie. Can’t go there.
Why not? You need a doctor—
Monsters. Only monsters there.
It paralyses him and he stays where he is, holding the door with an arm that’s heavy like lead, standing on legs that begin to go numb again. He watches, but not really, as Wayne sits Harrington down on the living room couch, between magazines and brochures and some of Eddie’s calculus notes from last night that he was searching for a sketch of a monster he was so certain he’d drawn in the margins a few weeks back.
Now there’s blood on his calculus notes. And Eddie is helplessly keeping the door open as though he’s going to run away any second now. Letting in more trouble to join Harrington on his couch.
He should… He should close the door. Help. Run. Disappear.
“Ed,” Wayne calls, snapping him out of his stupor. “The first aid kit, please. A bottle of water. A clean, wet cloth. A blanket, too.”
Wayne talks him through it, takes it one step at a time, has Eddie bring him one after the other like he knows how much he’s keeping his nephew together by keeping him on the brink of usefulness.
Soon, Wayne has everything he needs, taking care of Harrington and his wounds, keeping him awake and talking so much better than Eddie did, even making him smile here and there, hiding his wince when the motion pulls on his split lip or the huffed breath sends a jolt of pain through his rib that Eddie is absolutely certain must be broken with the way he holds himself — with the way he lets Wayne hold him up.
Wayne is doing his thing and Eddie is hiding, gripping the kitchen counter like a vice, staring both unseeingly and hyper-vigilantly as exhaustion washes over him, dragging him under and draining him of more than adrenaline. He slumps against the cupboard behind him, rubbing at his face like that’ll make it all go away.
It’s not right. It’s not. This is Eddie’s home, it’s supposed to be safe, it’s not…
He breaks away, ripping his hands from the counter and all but stumbling outside, heaving a deep breath and giving in to the urge to cry. Tears spring to his eyes and he wipes them away angrily, because it’s dumb, it’s so stupid, it’s absolutely fucking insane that he should be so worked up when Harrington talked about dying earlier.
These things don’t happen. They don’t!
“Stop fucking crying,” Eddie grumbles, sniffling and wiping away more tears as he closes his eyes against the afternoon sun. “Get a grip, Munson, Jesus Christ, there’s no reason to cry you big fuckin’ baby.”
Nobody’s there to contradict him. Nobody’s there to make it worse. So he lets his eyes sting for a while, lets his lips wobble, his jaw clenched shut, the balls of his hands pressing into his eyes, breathing deliberately.
In. Hold. Out. Hold.
He doesn’t even scream. Doesn’t punch the still bloody side of his van, doesn’t run into the woods and disappear into the void.
He simply breathes. Tries not to think about boys dying in mall fires, and even less so about boys beaten and abandoned in boat houses.
Doesn’t think about fucking Hawkins in Bumfuck-Indiana and the cursed way it has, driving its people mad.
Doesn’t think about, They said my brain is hurt, Eddie. Doesn’t think about the Monsters Harrington mentioned. Doesn’t think about Blue, doesn’t think about I’m tired, Eddie. Don’t wanna hurt anymore.
Doesn’t think about blue, blue, blue.
He’s shaking when he comes back inside. He’s shaking when Harrington meets his eyes, looking a little clearer now, the blood washed away and everything bandaged a lot better than Eddie managed. He’a bundled in Eddie’s blanket. It’s wrong. It’s so, so wrong.
Eddie can’t move, and neither does Steve.
“Steve,” Wayne says, waiting until those eyes tear themselves away from Eddie and back to him, though Eddie sees them fill with such trepidation, he almost asks what’s wrong. “I won’t hear a no on this, and I won’t let you go home. I’m taking you to the hospital. Especially if you tell me your head was hurt like this before, more times than one.”
“Three,” Blue breathes, a little dazed still. Not magically healed, not even from Wayne. Another thing that doesn’t feel right.
“Three times,” Wayne says, nodding, like he’s encouraging Steve to continue.
“But I don’t want a hospital.” Again with that tiny fucking voice. Like the Monsters are hiding under hospital beds.
“I know, son,” Wayne sighs, tugging the blanket a little tighter around Steve, and Eddie’s eyes begin to sting again when he notices the tone Wayne uses. When he realises. When he remembers.
”I want my mom.“
”I know, son. But she’s not coming. Your mama is gone, Ed, and this is your home now. Think we can make that work, hm? You and I?”
Eddie had never felt so lost as he did then, clutching his blanket to his chest, burying his face in the wet fabric even as this man — his uncle — tugs it tighter around him. Like he is fine with Eddie wanting to hide as long as he doesn’t run away.
He had shrugged, then, even though we wanted to shake his head, tell him no, tell him he wanted his mama.
”I’m scared, uncle Wayne.”
And Wayne had smiled a little, and nodded. “Then we do it scared, Eddie.”
Actually, Eddie feels like he never stopped doing it scared.
And now there is Steve, who Eddie never believed knew what being scared felt like. It’s dumb, of course, because even Harrington is just a boy, but he was always untouchable to Eddie. They never talked. They never existed in the same space together, not in a good way and not in a bad way. Their worlds just never aligned, never collided, never coexisted.
And now…
“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen, okay? There’s a doctor, Doctor Clarke. Like— Yeah, like your science teacher, remember him? ‘S got a brother who’s just as much of a genius, and just as kind. He’ll take a look at you, yeah? Make sure your brain isn’t too hurt, clean your wounds, give you something for the pain. He won’t, uh. He won’t hurt you, kid. Whatever’s got you so scared, Dr Clarke will be nice to you. Especially when I’m there with ya, I’m an old pal of his. And I will be. Won’t let you outta my sight until you’re well enough to run away from me, you hear me, kid?”
Eddie’s hands are hurting, his fingertips raw from where he’s been biting his nails while Wayne talks Blue through what’s going to happen — and he wonders, with the way Steve’s eyes are glued to Wayne, if he ever had anyone talking him through shit like this.
“Okay,” Harrington breathes at last, still sounding way too small. “But. I’m…”
“Scared anyway?” Wayne offers. Steve nods. You’re so blue, Stevie. “Then we do it scared anyway.”
And they do. Wayne goes to get the car so Steve won’t have to walk too far, leaving Eddie alone with him for a brief moment.
He watches, from his place in the kitchen, how Steve’s face falls into a look of utter exhaustion and tiredness; the adrenaline washing from him just the same. Eddie wants to reach out. Wants to say something, break the spell of tension and silence and I know we don’t talk, but I’m glad you’re doing a little better. I’m glad you’ll go see a doctor. I’m glad you haven’t died, I guess. Do you really think you will? Are you really so scared of that?
But Eddie keeps biting his nails, and Steve keeps his eyes closed, blanket around his shoulders. And they don’t talk.
“Thank you.”
Eddie perks up, not entirely sure he didn’t imagine the words — but Harrington moved slightly, his eyes still closed but his face now turned towards Eddie.
“For, uh. This.”
“I didn’t do shit, Blue,” Eddie says. “That was all Wayne. All I did was freak out, I promise.”
Harrington shakes his head, though, slowly. “Mh-mm.”
Eddie’s mouth snaps shut, because there is no room for discussion here. They don’t talk. And he doesn’t want the bubble to burst with insecurity and sourness.
“Thank you,” he says again, and he sounds final about it. It makes Eddie wonder what he’s like, really like, when he doesn’t consist of pain and nausea and disorientation.
He has a feeling that, despite everything, despite Monsters under hospital beds and torture in boathouses and mall fires that kill teenagers, Blue Harrington might be someone good to talk to. Compassionate as shit, even when all he wants to do is pass out.
“You’re welcome,” Eddie rasps, pretending that his eyes don’t sting.
He wraps his arms around his chest like he’s hugging himself, or like he’s holding himself back. From reaching out, from asking, from telling, from talking.
Unwittingly, even with his eyes closed, Steve mirrors him, and Eddie wonders if he, too, it holding himself back, or just curling in on himself some more even though it must hurt, feeling so small.
Maybe that’s what fear of death does to a nineteen year-old. It’s so fucked up. Eddie wants to scream again.
Outside, he hears a car door fall shut just before Wayne reappears in the door, giving Eddie some kind of meaningful look that he wouldn’t mind deciphering on any other day, but today he fears he needs words.
“I don’t know how long this’ll take. Will you be okay, Ed?”
“Will I be— Yes! I’m not the one with the concussion, man, of course I’ll be—“
It’s a bluff, comes too fast, and Wayne sees right through it before Eddie even realises it, and he steps closer. A warm hand on his shoulder. His eyes stinging again.
“You did good, kid. Everything will be fine. But it might take a while. It’s fine if you need to go somewhere, just… Don’t drive. Call Jeff if you need someone, just. Don’t do anything stupid. And don’t get behind the wheel. Deal?”
Eddie swallows hard, hit by another desperate, aching wave of I wanna go back in time and skip this day. A wave of tired exhaustion and wondering, aimlessly, just who the fuck Steve Harrington really is.
“Deal,” he says, and Wayne pulls him into a hug.
Eddie follows them outside then, trailing behind them like a lost little puppy, helping Harrington into Wayne’s car. His movements are still slugged and a little disoriented, so Eddie decides to lean in again and fasten his seatbelt.
“Careful,” he mumbles, allowing the boy a moment’s warning, a moment to adjust before the weight settles on his chest.
Dejá-vù hits him and makes him pause, with Harrington staring at him again.
“I’m careful,” he says, the corners of his mouth tugging into a little smile.
More lucid than earlier, and Eddie thinks it that which takes his breath away for a moment.
“Not gonna break, Eddie.”
“I know,” he says, still not moving back, instead reaching up to tighten the blanket around his shoulders even though the seatbelt is already there to hold it in place. “You’re not gonna break, Blue.”
The smile on those lips is genuine now, gentle enough to not be ruined by the blood crusting them.
“Thanks. Again.” And then, when Eddie finally pulls away to close the door and tell Wayne to drive safely, “I really do like that name.”
It soothes the urge to scream.
Eddie closes the door as gently as he can — which isn’t much, because the car is old and not exactly smooth.
“I’ll see you later,” he tells Wayne. Promises. To stay out of trouble, to stick around, to not run away for a while again, to stay out of his car.
Wayne nods, a faint smile on his lips.
“Later, Ed.”
And then they’re gone, and Eddie is untethered again. Wonders, for a few seconds every now and then if it really happened, if this is real.
But it did. And it is.
And after sitting on the steps for a while, having a smoke and staring at where Wayne’s car disappeared ten, twenty, forty minutes ago, Eddie heads inside.
He has a phone call to make.
🤍🌷 tagging: @theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 (a thousand percent sure i missed some but oh well such is the 3am disease)
addendum 22 jan 24: onwards to part 3
#steddie#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve harrington whump#this is so long i am SORRY#i hope tagging y'all was okay (and equally i'm hoping i missed nobody but also it is 3am)#who did this to you#most of y'all will know most of the beginning already maybe i should have split it up but i wanted y'all to have Something New too#and then the Something New got out of hand and oh well :(#dio words
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