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unclewaynemunson · 7 months

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Alt version of this post bc too many people asked for both <3

It's Saturday night and, like almost every Saturday night, Eddie wishes he didn't have to be at some jock party. The flashing lights, the scent of cheap mixed drinks, the incredibly mediocre loud music... And worst of all, the fucking jocks. Everywhere.

'Eddie!'

He looks up to find Steve, with a dopey smile on his face, basically skipping towards him and throwing his arms around his neck. Oh. He didn't know Steve still went to parties like those. Hadn't seen him at any of them in a while. But as soon as he gets wrapped up in an enthusiastic full-body hug, he decides there's one jock, and one jock only, that he doesn't mind running into at those parties.

'Eddie, what're you doin' here?' There's an unfocused look in his eyes and he wobbles on his legs a little bit, grabbing tighter onto Eddie for support. The touch burns through Eddie's t-shirt and he tries to ignore the shiver running down his spine.

'I didn't know you liked parties!' Steve drops his voice, slurring: 'I thought you hated the jocks.'

Eddie can't help but smile. 'I hate all jocks but one, big boy,' he tells Steve. 'Not here to party, only to get some cash.' He rattles with the metal lunchbox in his hands to illustrate his point. 'Can you let me go now so I can get on with my business, pretty please?'

'Noooo,' Steve says with an exaggerated pout. 'I'm too happy you're here! Dance with me!'

Eddie chuckles. 'I don't think you're in any state to dance right now. Jesus, Stevie, I don't think I've ever seen you this wasted before. Thought you were planning to pick up a girl tonight?'

'I was,' Steve says, suddenly sounding oddly serious. 'But it doesn't matter. Just needed to forget. The rum helped, too.' He frowns. 'Til you showed up.'

'Forget what?' Eddie asks, trying to make sense of this drunken string of words.

Something happens; something that's been happening quite often lately. Steve's eyes flash downwards, just for a second, right to where Eddie's lips are.

Eddie's heartbeat involuntarily picks up speed.

'What did you need to forget, Steve?' Eddie asks again.

'Can't tell you,' Steve mumbles so softly that Eddie can barely make it out over the loud music. 'I don't wanna make you feel guilty. I'm not judging you, y'know. 'S fine.'

He abruptly lets go of Eddie and takes a step away from him, stumbling right into some girl who pushes him back with an annoyed scoff; if Eddie weren't still standing right behind him, he would've fallen on his ass for sure.

'Alright, you're not making any sense tonight, big boy, but I can't in good conscience let you stay here by yourself. How 'bout I'll drive you home?'

Eddie glances at his watch. If he hurries, he can probably still be back to do what he came here for before the good part of the party is over. He does kinda need the cash.

'Can't,' says Steve. 'Can't go home with you.' Something in his voice is breaking and suddenly there are tears in his eyes, and Eddie still doesn't understand what's wrong; he feels like he's overlooking something huge, something that should be obvious.

'Let's just go outside to talk, then?' he suggests.

'Can't. Dance with me, Eddie.'

But when Eddie starts gently tugging Steve towards the open door leading to the garden, Steve easily lets himself be led outside. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath when the cool night air reaches his lungs, as if one gulp of fresh air will instantly make him sober up. But he's still swaying on his feet, making Eddie grab onto him tighter.

Eddie likes to think of himself as moderately strong, but unfortunately, hauling 180 pounds of muscled jock around is starting to take its toll on him. He spots a bench in a secluded corner of the garden and guides Steve towards it.

'This better?' he asks.

'Yeah,' Steve breathes out. Even now that they're both sitting down, Steve keeps clinging onto him. 'Look at the stars, Eddie.'

Eddie looks up at the scattering of lights twinkling far above them - but he can feel Steve's eyes still burning into his face.

When he directs his gaze back to the guy sitting next to him, Steve's face is even closer than before. The starlight is reflected in his hazy eyes, tiny specks of silver hidden in various shades of brown and black.

'I wish I could kiss you,' Steve whispers, looking at Eddie with nothing but admiration behind that glassy drunk gaze.

Eddie almost forgets to breathe. He knows that it seemed like he and Steve were headed exactly toward something like this for a while now, but he still can hardly believe that it is real. That Steve Harrington is really looking at him like he's just as precious as the stars in the sky above them.

He brings up a hand, gently caresses Steve's soft cheek.

'Maybe you don't have to wish,' he whispers back, unable to stop his eyes from flashing towards Steve's beautiful lips for a moment. 'Tomorrow. When you're not drunk anymore. If you still remember this.'

'No.' Steve shakes his head, so fiercely it makes his hair flap in all directions and his complexion at least two shades paler. 'Can't.'

'Why do you keep saying that, Steve?' Eddie asks softly.

'Cause.' For a moment Eddie thinks Steve is gonna grab his ass, but then... he randomly frees Eddie's handkerchief – the one with the skulls – from his back pocket.

'Cause of the Russians.'

Eddie can only stare at him in confusion.

'They tied me up,' Steve all but whispers. Eddie hates how small and broken his voice suddenly sounds.

He has always known – broadly speaking – about what happened to Steve and Robin miles beneath Starcourt last year. He's never actually heard Steve talk about the details, though. All he knows is that he and Robin were captured by Russian spies and somehow made it out alive. He could always see how difficult it was for Steve to talk about it whenever it came up, but he never wanted to pry. And now here they are, at some goddamn high school jock party of all places, and all of a sudden Steve willingly brings it up.

'I was with Robin,' Steve continues, still in that scared and broken voice. 'And they tied us to a chair. We couldn't move. And they – they hurt me. They hit me. 'Til I was bleeding all over. I thought I was gonna die. Robin thought I was dead.'

'Jesus Christ, Steve,' Eddie breathes out, tightening his grip around Steve's torso.

'So I can't,' Steve mumbles, holding up Eddie's handkerchief as if it's some kind of logical explanation for whatever it is he's trying to tell Eddie.

'Wh- What?'

'I know what it means, Eddie,' he says, as if he's even remotely making sense right now. 'You know John?'

'Who the hell is John?' Eddie only keeps finding himself more and more lost in this conversation.

'My cousin,' Steve says, like it's obvious, like he's ever talked about some cousin named John to Eddie before. 'The one in New York. He knows all about that shit, right? He sends me the good magazines sometimes when my parents aren't home. That's how I know.'

'Know what?'

Steve only waves around with that stupid handkerchief again.

'You're flagging, aren't ya? You like pain. Like BS... BM...'

Eddie feels his jaw drop.

'What the fuck are you talking about?' he asks. 'It's – this is a metal thing. It looks metal. I literally have no idea what you're – flagging?'

Now Steve's face finally mirrors the confusion Eddie has been feeling for the past ten minutes.

'Are you serious?' he asks, for one second showing more clarity in his eyes than Eddie has seen all evening.

Eddie nods.

'So it's not...' Steve stops himself, swallows, frowns. 'You're not into, like, hurting people and shit?'

And finally, it all clicks together in Eddie's mind: the repeated chorus of I can't, the story about the Russians, the goddamn handkerchief... Flagging. BDSM.

'Why the hell would I get off on hurting you, Steve?' is all he can get out of his mouth.

And Steve honest-to-Satan starts giggling; it sounds so relieved that Eddie kinda feels like giggling too, scary metal image be damned.

'I dunno, it's more common than you think,' Steve mumbles. 'I wouldn't judge you, alright? But I knew I could never give you that. No matter how much I like you. And then you'd get bored of me.'

'Oh, Steve,' Eddie whispers out. 'You don't need to worry 'bout that, I swear. For all I care, we can have the most vanilla sex in the world forever. Or never have sex at all. As long as it's with you... I'm good.' Eddie cringes as soon as the words leave his mouth: it sounds too cheesy, too sincere. He kinda hopes Steve will have forgotten this particular part of their conversation tomorrow morning.

But Steve doesn't look at him like he thinks it's stupid at all: his eyes are wide and he's smiling a soft smile.

'You sure? You won't get bored?'

Eddie chuckles. Now that he's being too goddamn cheesy anyway, he might as well double down on it. 'I can't imagine getting bored of getting to hold this body in a million fucking years. In any way you'll have me.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh before he buries his head against Eddie's chest.

'Can I bring you home, now?' Eddie asks.

There's a twinkle in Steve's eyes when he lifts his head again.

'Ooohhh... You wanna have the most vanilla sex in the world with me now?'

A chortle escapes Eddie's lungs.

'Um, maybe tomorrow, when you're not drunk off your ass,' he answers with a wink. 'For tonight, just lemme get you to bed, 'kay?'

'Okay, big boy,' Steve answers, and Eddie can't help but laugh before he presses a kiss against Steve's forehead.

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #thought i'd finally put in my own 2 cents about them hanky debate #if you even care #seriously have fun with your hc's however you like but #let's address the trauma here alright #(and let them have the most boring vanilla sex forever i guess)#can you tell i'm in my soft steddie era?#I JUST NEED THEM TO BE SOFT GODDAMNIT #maybe it's my own yearning but LET THEM BE SOFT #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #fruity ficlet #tw alcohol

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caelanglang · 1 year

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Shhhh…. They’re busy recharging and being in love

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morganbritton132 · 2 months

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Eddie, posting to TikTok: Look, I love my husband. I adore this man and I have for the majority of my life. He is the shining star in my sky.

Eddie: And I know. I know he wants to read more this year. And I know that when you’re dyslexic, it can be really difficult and I’m happy every time he accomplishes what he wants but…

*Flips camera to show Steve reading on the other side of the couch*

Eddie, gesturing: What kind of demented book handling is this? That book is bent in half. It’s a hardback!

#Robin in the comments: …that’s my book #my HC is that Steve reads trashy spy thrillers #for the record: I’m not a book purest. treat your books however you want #this is actually based of the time my little sister asked if she could borrow one of my books and I said no and then felt bad so I bought #her the book and she immediately broke the spine. which is fine if it’s your own book but I know she would’ve done the same to mine #eddie munson tiktok saga #eddie munson #steve harrington

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rileyclaw · 1 year

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new scars, new facepaint

#guys post s3 flyer derby hunter has flapjacks scar as facepaint instead of his lil lightning #please listen to my delusions bc it makes me SOB #if u miss the point of this look hard at the shape of the facepaint i promise i was deep about this #screams #the owl house #toh #fanart #willow park #hunter noceda #hunter toh #skara toh #viney toh #gus porter #emerald entrails #my art #comic #toh season 3 #the staff is censored so you can use your own hc or imagination as to what he is using!!#whether its like. stringbean or one he's carved. its sometime after wad i bet

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somewhatidealname · 3 months

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younger springtrap

#art #springtrap #fnaf #spring bonnie #cw blood #cw gore #cw body horror #i have this hc that some time after being springlocked springtrap tried clawing himself from their own body #feeling trapped to such an insane degree your own body is your prison

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wintersoldier2005 · 2 years

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sorry but the idea of bruce being dick's father in his mid 20s. he's always a little tired but otherwise he's young and looks it too. he can pick dick up with one hand to put him on his shoulders. he doesn't know jack about taking care of kids. they play a game that they both love where bruce picks him up and just like... throws him off of the spiraling staircase to watch how he catches himself in the air and lands unharmed. they play soccer together in the backyard and bruce is so young and spry and he can do a bicycle kick (dick goes to school and tells everyone that bruce can do a bicycle kick. not to flex but he's really cool guys.) he lets dick make dino nuggets as their dinner three nights in a row when alfred is gone and they make a stupid big everything but the kitchen sink sundae and split it afterwards. kid you're killing me, he says, because he has a sweet tooth that alfred doesn't enable. maybe sometimes they argue and argue bad, especially as dick grows up, but at the end of the day that's his dad.

one day like ten fifteen years later when damian is young dick looks at bruce and all the sudden what happened.... his dad has crow's feet and his hair is graying a little...! that sort of tiredness that people get as they age! he's still strong he's the fucking batman but when damian wants to play a game (being hurled off the balcony into the pool) bruce looks at dick and smiles and he's got lines on his face. he's aging. and that's still bruce but he doesn't laugh with his head thrown back anymore and he doesn't style his hair the way he used to when he was in his 20s and he's stopped wearing the loose button ups with the first button undone he wore when he picked him up from school in the convertible. his dad is getting older and even bruce wayne can't escape the passage of time. he tells damian no being thrown off the roof. damian protests. but grayson says you used to throw him off the staircase when he was my age. bruce throws his hands up and turns away and gives dick a look before he goes that tells him he'll be in his office and if there happens to be a loud splash from the pool... well that's none of his business is it.

#dc comics #batman #batfam #dick grayson #bruce wayne #YOU KNOW. THE CYCLES??? THE FUCKING FAMILIAL CYCLES???? KILLS MY SELF????#something about the thin line between bruce being dick's father and brother you know... is so fucking interesting. but i digress #also just to be clear these are all my own hcs and literally none of them come from anywhere in any published dc comic. do not get on my #ass about it i am making a silly little POST on TUMBLR DOT COM. if you dont like it complain to your mama. peace & love on the palanet eart

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harbingersecho · 2 months

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florida man

#rvb #red vs blue #agent florida #butch flowers #rvb florida #mine #*24 #art #og faceclaim hc by toastyglow!! ty yeets-you-out-the <3 #i have no strong feelings abt florida but i do love this moment lol #i said i'd draw him for 0 likes but i did get 1 like on that 🔥 fuck perspective btw all my homies hate it #idk why but tien päällä joka päivä was the anthem for this. has fuckall to do with florida but the. vibes? i guess?#but now i do have the random hc that florida had a (space?) trucker older brother + he left home young + that he used to smoke so. lol #... do not become a florida stan based off of your own unfounded headcanons. do NOT. grrr im fighting it off

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ohimsummer · 2 months

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✎ . . . WHAT A STEAL!

⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ not rlly any warnings i think!! basic sashisu x reader (suguru’s is prob a lil more obvious) u r just a victim of sashisu thievery 🫶🏾

SASHISU who steal your things.

your favorite pink beanie has gone missing. you wear it every time you go out, even around the house sometimes, but the hat has suddenly went MIA. last you saw, it was on your desk. and shoko was the last person in your room, but she doesn't seem to have your beloved hat. the four of you are heading out for brunch at some cafe satoru was going rabid about, so you don't want to keep them waiting over a beanie. it’s not until you settle for another and meet the trio at the door that you spot it on satoru’s head.

he doesn't show the slightest hint of guilt as you approach, in fact gojo acts like everything is normal. you'd find the sight of this 6 foot giant topped off with a baby pink beanie amusing if you weren't so annoyed in the moment.

“i have been looking all over for that!” you glare up at gojo, poking a finger in his chest.

and he just gives you a shit-eating grin. “oh, i know! looks like you finally found it, yeah?”

he thinks the little frown you give him is so cute, but gojo still pacifies your angry stare by engulfing you in his blue scarf. he taps a finger on your nose, and his eyes light up when you grin at him. you suppose this is a fair trade.

a brand new pair of pink slides that you just bought to wear around the house have suddenly disappeared clean from your bedroom. you wonder if you left them in shoko’s room, and search for her to ask.

“sho?” you call as you stick your head out onto the balcony. “have you seen my sandals?”

she’s leaning against the rail having a smoke, suguru sitting in one of the balcony chairs. your eyes gravitate to her feet as she asks, “which ones?”

‘which ones?’ you repeat mockingly in your head, staring at said shoes on her feet because she’s seemingly helped herself. along with a pair of your new socks, too, apparently?

"now, shoko-"

"okay, okay." she and suguru share delighted giggles. "can i wear them a little longer, until i finish this?" shoko lifts the glowing cigarette in her hand.

you huff, though unable to fight the way your lips curl up into a smile. "fine. i want them back right after, though. get your own slides."

she brushes you off with a turn of her head, giggling. "love you, y/n."

"yeah, yeah, whatever."

one. two.

one...two...

yep, one of your pillows is definitely missing.

it's not on the couch (like the last time gojo took it when he fell asleep there) and not in shoko's room (which you assume would make the most sense). you're headed to the guest room next to see if it's been misplaced there, but something feels off when you pass by suguru's open door. his eyes are on you as you step back for a doubletake, and find him relaxed atop a very out-of-place pink pillow on his black bedsheets.

"what, are your pillows not good enough?" hands falling to your hips, your head tilts, a brow raised at geto's unbothered reaction.

he replies with a languid smile. "i find yours a little more comfortable."

you hold your tongue on reminding him that you both went pillow-shopping together, so they're the same pillows. he holds his tongue on admitting that he also likes the way your scent calms his nerves and lulls him to sleep. you both decide it's not important, right now, anyway.

tagz: @anthoosies @staryukis @mysugu @hellkaiserinphoenix :3c

#they’re not all pink bc I like pink (even tho that is true)#or tbh maybe i indirectly did bc i had my stuff in mind and they all happen to be pink....it's just a coincidence i swear NJFNVJD #suguru would steal your coats and hoodies too if they fit LOL #he also ‘’’’borrows’’’’ your hair ties. sir ik you do not own green and red and pink hair ties please be fr #sashisu x reader #sashisu headcanons #sashisu hcs #geto x reader #gojo x reader #shoko x reader #sashisu imagine #sashisu drabble

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capinejghafa · 5 months

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You know, I kind of find it interesting when the narrative of fanfics is always like Kaz is in a bad mood because Inej isn't there... rather than Kaz is bored because Inej isn't there. I guess two things can be true at the same time... but also, in the following years, Kaz built the following: an underground tunnel in Ketterdam, the Silver Six, expanded the Crow Club, expanded the Dregs territory (presumably). That's two years... of pure restless energy.

We are also told that he really only talks to Jesper and Wylan when there's a job he needs help with presumably because he's so busy. Kaz also finds time to correspond with a king of a whole other nation... and has been known to roleplay as a beggar (yes, I will keep bringing this up bc it's funny). Imagine, if you will, an 18-19 year old Kaz coming into all this wealth and so much time to just build because he can. Maybe because he's a little lonely, or bored, or both.

I don't think Kaz is angry, I think Kaz is restless.

#kaz brekker #kanej #the crows #rule of wolves #six of crows #i mentioned this before but i truly think kaz will burn himself out by the time he gets to his mid-20s #like i keep going over the one quote: was there ever another dream... and damn kaz take a nap or a break #i want to shake him #anyways my son's trying his best and going to be failing miserably in the future...#bc you can't keep up this pace and not face the consequences of your own actions 🫠#**this is my personal hc :)

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bluegiragi · 13 days

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sorry if you’ve been asked this before but what actually is ghost if he’s not a hybrid? like is there a classification for things that go from human -> monster, or is it a case of just existing!

Well...i'd call him a monster! He is fully a wraith now, so he's no longer in the human camp anymore. And I might change this later, but right now wraiths are the only way humans can achieve monster-hood themselves (besides becoming thralls from a vampire bite, see: Graves and his whole posse).

I think in the past, humans could be turned by werewolf bites too, but i think they were always a gamble on whether they killed the human or successfully turned them. and then as time went on and werewolves became a more insular community, they lost that ability. In any case, unless they were turned at birth, human-turned-werewolves would always be 'runts' of the pack just because they started off stunted (human).

#yippee yippee i get to lore dump again!!#but also like. as always #this is just my personal hc!!!!!!!!!!!!#and you can absolutely take what you want from this and supplememt it with your own headcanons #for your fics and fanart

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unclewaynemunson · 7 months

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Yall voted for the sober version of this premise so here ya go:

Steve doesn't know exactly what he had expected kissing Eddie would be like, but it sure as hell wasn't this. He would've expected something rough and raw, bared teeth and maybe fingers pulling at his hair. But what he gets instead is something infinitely soft, something resembling tenderness... It makes it all the more difficult for him to pull back.

“What's wrong, Stevie?” Eddie asks after one look at Steve's face.

“I need to tell you something,” Steve manages to choke out.

And Eddie wraps his arms all around him, pulling him closer until his head is lying right against Eddie's beating heart. That heartbeat, steady and reassuring, is all he focuses on while he talks.

“Remember last summer? The mall fire that wasn't really a mall fire?”

“You finally gonna tell me what happened there?” Eddie says. It doesn't sound accusatory, just curious and a little confused as to where this is headed.

“I don't really like to talk about it,” Steve confesses. He closes his eyes, flashes of what happened back then floating to the surface of his mind again.

“We – Robin and I – we were captured by Russian soldiers. They tied us up and interrogated us for hours. They thought we were spies, so they tried to get us to give up information. They hit me.” He pauses to take a breath. “They hurt me real bad, Eddie. Until I was bleeding all over. Until I lost consciousness and Robin thought I was dead. The only reason we survived is because they thought we would have useful information for them.”

“Jesus Christ, Steve...”

Eddie's grip around him tightens, but Steve lifts his head up and makes a half-hearted attempt to crawl away from him. The hardest part has yet to come.

“I really, really like you, Eddie,” he says. “But I can't do this with you.”

Confusion flashes over Eddie's features: his eyes widen and the lines around his lips become deeper. But he still doesn't loosen his grip.

“What do you mean?”

“It's the –“ Steve clears his throat. “I know what it means, the – your hanky. I got a cousin in New York who knows all about that shit, they send me magazines sometimes when my parents aren't home. I'm sorry, Eddie, but I can't do that, like, ever. It's only gonna make me relive that shit from last year. There's no way I can ever give you what you need, so it wouldn't be fair to...” He trails off, not quite knowing how to finish that sentence.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Eddie still looks as confused as ever.

“Your hanky,” Steve uselessly repeats. “You're flagging, aren't you? You're into, like, hurting people, right?”

Steve watches how Eddie's jaw drops, almost in slow motion.

“This?” he asks, grabbing behind him and taking the black piece of fabric, covered in skulls, out of his back pocket.

Steve nods.

Eddie laughs, but it sounds fake and on edge, quickly dying out again. “Steve. This is a metal thing. It looks badass, y'know. I literally have no idea what you're – flagging?”

A gasp escapes Steve's lips and he feels his heartbeat speed up with something that must be hope.

“Are you serious?”

Eddie nods, his brows still furrowed and that endearingly confused look of I-have-no-clue-what-the-hell-is-going-on not leaving his eyes.

It feels like Steve's heart is starting to run laps in his chest, now. He can barely suppress the laughter that's bubbling up inside of him.

“What the hell are you trying to tell me, Steve?”

He grabs the hanky that's still in Eddie's hand.

“I thought you were flagging,” he weakly explains. “It's like a code. To signal what you like to do, y'know, in the bedroom. The black, it means – I thought you were into, like, BDSM shit. Things I can't do: being tied down, getting hurt...”

“Why the hell would I get off on hurting you, Stevie?”

It sounds so ridiculously innocent and horrified: Eddie the freak, Eddie the scary metalhead – Eddie who is genuinely shocked at the suggestion that he had in any way created an image for himself in which it made sense that he'd be into pain.

“I mean, if you would, I wouldn't wanna judge you or whatever,” Steve is quick to say. “You'd be surprised how many people are into that shit, I'm not here to shame anyone. But if you aren't... I'm really fucking relieved, man.”

He still vividly remembers what happened when he was dating Daphne, who had once taken his wrists in her hands and pinned them down on the mattress above his head while she was on top of him. Or when he was with Melissa, who had half-jokingly slapped his ass one time when things were getting heated between them. Anything restricting his movements, anything unexpected, could make him lose his shit now, as he had had to find out the hard way. It had made him believe that he could never actually have Eddie, that that would be asking too big of a sacrifice of either one of them, an impossible kind of compromise, no matter how much they liked one another. But instead, here he is, with Eddie looking at him with the softest look in his eyes, actually having talked about his shit before they even got up to anything more than kissing.

So he tells him, stumbling his way through the words, about his experiences with Daphne and with Melissa. And Eddie listens to him patiently, his big eyes never once leaving Steve's, nodding as if he's mentally taking notes of what to do and what not to do.

“We can take it as slow as you need to,” Eddie tells him when he's finished, his voice sincere and reassuring.

“It's not about taking it slow,” Steve assures him. “It isn't about not being ready. It's more about...” He pauses to think. “It's about trust. I trust you.”

Eddie's hands, that are still wrapped around Steve's torso, tighten for a moment and he blinks rapidly a few times. He looks overwhelmed by Steve's words.

“Okay,” he finally says, a little bit more hoarse than before. “So if it's about trust, can I trust you to tell me whenever something I do is bringing back unwanted memories?”

Steve nods. “Yeah, I can do that.”

It's always been difficult for him to talk about what happened that day underneath the mall. But he realizes he has already done the difficult part: Eddie already knows about the memories he is carrying with him. That must make it easier to talk about it in case it will ever be necessary.

Soft lips press against his temple and he drops his head back on Eddie's chest.

“Good,” says Eddie. The sound of his voice vibrates through Steve's whole body; he doesn't think there's anything more comforting than being completely wrapped up in Eddie like this.

A hand lands in his hair and starts stroking through it softly.

“Thank you for telling me this,” Eddie mumbles. “That couldn't have been easy.”

In return, Steve wants to thank Eddie for being as sweet and understanding as he has been, but the exhaustion of having this talk is washing over him in big, heavy waves. So he merely hums and lets his eyes fall shut.

“You wanna stay the night?” Eddie asks. “We don't have to do anything right now – we can go straight to sleep, how does that sound?”

Steve nuzzles his head further into Eddie's chest. “Sounds good,” he murmurs. He can't imagine ever wanting to sleep on his own again.

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #thought i'd finally put in my own 2 cents about them hanky debate #if you even care #seriously have fun with your hc's however you like but #let's address the trauma here alright #and let them be unbearably soft #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #fruity ficlet

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vasito-de-leche · 2 months

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;R1999 - Self-Aware AU

Headcanons about an Alternate Universe in which everyone knows they're living inside a videogame. However, Vertin is the only one aware of the entity inhabiting her own mind, the real conductor - the "Player".

this is one of my favorite AUs to slap on whatever media I'm into so here we are <3 not sure if anyone's done this already, but PLEASE PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE link me if you've seen any other ppl write for this AU! this one and any actor AUs are my absolute fave

this is just a word vomit introduction for fun, to get the basic ideas out of my head, so I can start writing for characters individually!

Okay, okay! First of all, some context for the AU before I go deranged overexplaining my HCs!

Aside from the "Storm", there is something else that haunts the people of this world: the fact that their lives are nothing but a simulacrum, part of a game.

The requirements to obtain this "self-awareness" is unknown. Those within the Foundation believe it's related to their respective "roles", that only the main and relevant characters are given the chance to fully open their eyes to the truth. Those within Manus Vindictae claim that one must be strong enough to break through the fog of complacency and their assigned scripts, to have their full potential unleashed and obtain true liberation. Either way, similar to the "Storm", this is a well-kept secret for a very good reason - everyone wants to have the upperhand.

There is one outlier to this whole system. Vertin is not only aware of the truth of this world, but also of her duty as the eyes and hands of the "Player". She must experience it all for their sake. Or rather, whatever she experiences will be the story that the Player will see.

This applies to her suitcase, the place where the Player's influence increases tenfold, bending everything and everyone to their will through her own body and voice. The longer one stays within her suitcase - or within her general vicinity - the easier it is for them to become self-aware.

How does one become "self-aware" and what does it entail?

The requirements and the catalyst for a character to become self-aware are still a mystery. But that's mostly because I specifically wanted to keep them as vague as possible, to allow some flexibility for NPCs and other characters outside of Vertin's suitcase.

The whole process of gaining sentience or self-awareness is mostly described as waking up from a nightmare, or a very, very realistic dream. It's like a switch, something that happens in a second without any warnings whatsoever.

I like to think that most of the people who wake up are easy to spot, because it's a jarring experience and panicking is the most normal reaction - but that they're often taken care of by the Foundation or recruited by Manus Vindictae.

The levels of awareness also depend heavily on each individual - some only know that nothing is truly real, that everything they've done up until that point was just a carefully scripted lie, the most basic realization. Others can understand the rules that govern this game and use them to their advantage, either through observation and study or just inherently.

Overall, the experience of being sentient varies as well, with some describing a disconnect from their body, while others feel exactly the opposite. Again, keeping it pretty vague so that people can fill in with their own ideas!

I'll talk about Vertin's case in detail when we get to her specific bullet point, but the same way the Player is able to experience the "story" through her eyes, she's able to see the same things they do - this includes the UI, the menus and everything you can interact with in-game.

Vertin as a character and a vessel for the Player.

The most common thing I've seen in self-aware AUs in my years of fandom is to turn the player stand-in (the main character that serves for the player to experience the story through and/or project onto, depending on the genre of the game) into an obstacle, one that keeps the characters from truly interacting with the Player, capital P.

The second most common thing I've seen is to simply ignore the existence of this player stand-in and replace it with the Player themself, either through isekai methods or thanks to the customization the game allows, etc etc.

When it comes to Vertin in this AU, I know I want her to retain her role as the center of everything, instead of being sidelined by the Player. She's THE Timekeeper, after all.

There's still some details I'm trying to iron out, like whether she's always been self-aware or if she became self-aware at some point during her childhood at the St. Pavlov Foundation. But I like to think that her relationship to the Player is a parallel to her immunity to the "Storm" - neither of these two things are inherently good nor bad. Surviving the "Storm" is helpful, sure, but it's painful for her. Having an entity like the "Player" haunting her is scary, sure, but it can be an advantage. It's a matter of how she utilizes the assets she was given, since her adaptability and determination are big aspects of her character. Vertin makes up for her mediocre arcane skills with unconventional plans and strategies.

But this isn't to say that Vertin isn't affected by the presence of the Player. Ironically, she's the one person whose freedom is limited. During battles, her skills and Tuning are available to you, they can also prove to be vital to win a fight, but in the end you're still the one calling the shots and choosing when her friends get to attack. You're the one choosing the layout of the Wilderness. You're the one picking which one of her friends deserves to become stronger.

In the last bullet point I mentioned that some characters can understand the rules of the game - Vertin is the most extreme case, as she can see the same UI as you do. She learns the way you like to fight your battles, your own strategies, she can see this and more.

Overall it's a very complex dynamic. It's not as easy as saying that she likes or dislikes you, that she considers you a friend or foe. You're part of her, you influence each other in many aspects and are stuck together for reasons she can't even fathom. While you may be able to read her thoughts most of the time, she becomes invisible once you enter the suitcase - the main menu of the game. Sure, the character you selected to greet you every day is actually talking to her, not you, but she's out of your view and therefore, out of our range. That's when Vertin wonders the sort of person that you are, if you care about her friends as much as she does. Are you playing just to be entertained? Are you invested in these events? Will you be there for her until the end of her story?

Another detail I like to think about is that Vertin is the only one who knows your name. Because at the very beginning, you were asked to input a name and she was there.

[screenshot was taken from this video, since it's the first one I could find that showed this specific part of the game lol]

Well, "your name" not quite right - she knows that whatever you wrote there is the name linked to your account, at least. And that's the name she knows you as.

Those who take residence in Vertin's suitcase or spend prolonged amounts of time with her, growing closer to her and all, end up becoming self-aware. This is a direct side-effect of your presence.

I like to think that characters who reach the 100% Bond can begin to sense the Player, to see the world in a similar way as Vertin does. Maybe even feel their presence EXACTLY like Vertin does whenever there's a battle. There is someone else on the other side of this screen, the fourth wall, who watches over them.

To some, it's hard to differentiate Vertin from the Player, as they just go hand in hand - but Sonetto, for example, has the easiest time telling the two apart.

On the subject of freedom and acting out of script.

The Foundation, Manus Vindictae, Laplace... It doesn't matter if they're self-aware and acting outside of what their script dictates, because they're missing one key ingredient: you. No one else but Vertin and her group knows about your existence, after all.

They don't know that the only story that matters is the one that Vertin is part of. The one that the Player gets to see and read and experience. And because the game gives you a very limited view into the lives of these characters, you don't know what neither Arcana nor Constantine do behind the scenes. You and Vertin don't see that, therefore, it never truly mattered.

Those most likely to start "acting out" are the troublemakers within Vertin's suitcase. Characters who are too curious for their own good, who are more susceptible to supernatural entities, who are just too impulsive - they would start to test the limits and see how far they can go, how much they can interact with the Player. Can the game be broken should they end up shattering the fourth wall? Is there a way for the Player to communicate with them? What will happen to Vertin?

I like to think that Vertin probably supports this, as she's rather curious herself, prone to questioning everything. She would also like to learn more about the Player, to truly tear into the game and see the full extent of your influence and her freedom.

Sometimes, Regulus and X will change their usual voicelines, just enough to be noticeable if one pays enough attention. Characters like Sotheby or Leilani might slip up and address the Player, rather than Vertin. Lilya, Pavia, Bkornblume have new animations and different expressions, ones you've never seen before - they stare ahead, as if searching for something, and then smirk or hum to themselves, deep in thought, like they realized something you're not privy of.

Sometimes, if you leave them as your selected assistant on the main menu, you can catch them muttering to themselves - idle quotes you never heard enough, about the outside world. Diggers does this the most, it's almost embarassing how easy it is to catch him talking nonsense, followed by Sonetto. If you leave Medicine Pocket alone for too long, you might come back to a screen covered in weird scratch marks.

On the subject of these characters being curious about the outside world and all, I think that a good chunk of them are generally content with the way things are?

We have to remember that in-universe, they're arcanists displaced from their respective eras. Their best chance at surviving is siding with Vertin, and if Vertin is content with the way things are, then there's no point in trying to disrupt what they have right now. They're curious enough to prod, but only as far as Vertin allows it.

And I think that's it for the word vomit!

There are some details I didn't know where to fit in, like the possibility of the fourth wall slowly dissipating the more time the Player invests in the game, leading to some characters being able to directly hear you if you talk while playing and whatnot. Or what would happen should someone outside of Vertin's suitcase figure out the existence of the Player, let alone interact with you in some way.

Or the concept of death being meaningless, unless it was pre-established by the game itself.

In Borderlands, there's this game mechanic where you can just be revived over and over and pay a percentage of your money as a fee, even though the canon that's established is that you play through the whole story without dying a SINGLE time - because the revival mechanics aren't canon. There's the divide between story and gameplay. That's pretty much the standard. But what about the deaths in battles in R1999? The amount of times I died to 1.3's UTTU's Flash Gathering is insane. How do self-aware characters feel about this, now that they know that they're bound to die over and over and be brought back because you have to do your Pneuma Analysis or reach the final stage of Limbo?

But that's pretty much it for now, I think I got most thoughts out of my system! Thank you for reading!

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #self aware au #'mod six what are you going to do with this AU?'#probably write more reader inserts for FMN and pavia lmfao #i just wanted it out of my brain and onto a post #i like to think about things in-depth but thats it #and just like the hanahaki nsr au. feel free to fuck around with this concept! discuss it or make up your own HCs!#tag me if you wanna bc i love to read. but no need to credit me

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nelkcats · 1 year

Text

The Banshee, a JL mystery

A foreign case was being discussed by the Justice League, in general it was not bad, just rare.

It began a couple of months ago, a tourist had come to Star City, but he did not visit the city, he did not even register, he just pop out of nowhere, went to the cemetery, and apparently the cameras recorded him placing flowers in all the tombs and talking with the air or with some of the people engraved in the stones, they were not sure of it.

The strange thing was that the cameras around him were always corrupted, they needed the JLD to even stabilize the image, and ¿was that not worrying? They assumed that something supernatural was following him, the boy looked strictly human, but even the trackers that they tried to put were damaged around him.

Unfortunate for the entire league, although they had the guy features, the image was not clear enough for facial recognition.

The corrupted sound of the camaras sounded like a wail, or a cry, Constantine commented it remembered him to a banshee, so they started to call him "The Banshee" even if Zatanna told them Banshee were strictly women, it stayed.

The wave of visits continued, the boy went through Central City, Metropolis, Washington, Gotham, but it was later where something relevant happened again.

Jason was visiting his own grave when he noticed the boy, he tells, he cared because the young man seemed disconsolate looking at the graves, even yearning if that had some sense.

"Did you know him?" It may be the case of B, but it still had him intrigued. Also, the guy was looking at his grave, he felt like he have the right to ask.

"No, but you could say I already did" the boy sighed, stroking the stone of the tomb "I would also like it-..." Danny stopped, he should not be telling his problems to the owner of the tomb "Ah, no matter, it's good to know he was loved"

Jelousy, the reason why Danny visited the cemeteries was to calm himself, surrounded by what he wants but can not occur, to cry as no one cried for him, Clockwork always said that a part of him died at the moment nobody pay attention to his death, and ¿wasn't that funny?

"¿How do you know?" If someone asked Jason, he would affirm that it was uncomfortable to talk about himself as if he was still dead, but he couldn't do anything about it now.

"Well, he's buried and has a proper resting place, they keep bringing him flowers even though the inside of his grave is empty, you can see the recently removed earth; Many of the dead don't have that luxury, their bodies left somewhere, the missing people were never given a proper burial, I don't know man, ghosts can't build their own graves ¿you know?" He was probably ranting and he knew it, but Danny was tired, he wanted that too, and it was such a stupid rule not to be able to give himself his own resting place, but he wasn't going to burden Jazz, Sam, or Tucker with giving him a funeral.

It was the reason he did this, why he visited cemeteries, laid flowers and talked to the resident ghosts, he wanted to know the feeling, wanted to know what he had lost, wanted to be mourned too.

"Anyway, nice to meet you Nosaj Ddot, be a little grateful for what you have, ¿okay? I know some who would kill for it" he smiled ruefully, starting to pick up his basket of flowers, he had already made his rounds anyway. It was probably time to go back to Amity Park.

"¿Nosaj? What are you talking about-" but the boy was already gone, disappeared into thin air, his communications re-established at the same moment that he noticed his damaged tracker right next to the grave, a short circuit.

"The banshee ¿uh?, he sure is an interesting guy, maybe the League is really onto something this time."

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