#but I'm not allowed to talk about it yet

[khytal]

I am desperate to know what these ~incidents~ are

sholmes: soap-eater prophecy / cat paw tea

ryuunosuke: kazuma's tits (there was a 2nd instance of this happening but I didn't post about it)

phoenix: the car incident (also this post which radiated enough phoenix energy for me to be called out again)

#anonymous #frankly i think the car thing automatically blows the competition out of the water simply by virtue of the incident being what it is #also something *else* happened to me that definitely. supports the phoenix thing #but I'm not allowed to talk about it yet #I have no idea what the poll looks like rn bc I haven't cast my own vote and i feel like it'd be weird for me to do so hdfsgjkfkd #khyt.aaposting

[introspectivememories]

too many of you guys think nico is the loser and not lewis for letting the divorce go on for so long. like they're both losers about each other. emotionally constipated idiots who can't talk about their toxic homoerotic friendship that imploded on itself like 8 years ago and are now making it everyone else's problem. yeah nico's on television or in beer gardens talking about lewis all the time but like every other month some reporter is like "lewis, what's your favorite moment in your career?" and lewis no hesitation is like "oh man, karting, y'know? everything was simpler then" and then spends another six months skirting around nico's name. like this whole thing they're doing in the media isn't some kinda extended foreplay for them. they're both still pressing on the bruise to make sure it's still there!!! every few months, they're literally just asking on public television, does it still hurt for you like it does for me? and like clockwork, someone will release new information about them or one of them will say something about each other (in my heart, he's still my best friend/yes... and teammate) and the answer will remain the same, yes, of course, always.

#lewis is unarguably more famous than nico. like i feel like this a fact. and yet every other day nico is in the press saying some crazy shit #about lewis. if i was famous i woulda shut that shit down soo long ago. my ex-bf is in the press talkin bout me constantly??? that feels #like such bad pr and yet!!! lewis has not done anything. why? cause he likes it!!! cause they've never moved on from the 1st moment they #broke each other's hearts. like this is genuinely insane. #im always so nervous to post my thoughts on brocedes cause so many of you were here b4 me and have a better understanding on them #and like being a wrong is like a death sentence to me but still please tell me if i got them completely wrong #i have a lot of thoughts on lewis and his reluctance to talk about nico... most of them being that one quote from emma #if i loved you less i might be able to talk about it more #ok obligatory disclaimer: a lot of this is hyperbole. i don't think that they're asking lewis that ? every other month #but there are like at least 5 interviews where he talks about karting like they're his most precious memories #so make of that what you will #and obv i don't know these people but as someone who's brain chemistry has been permanently changed by them #i think i'm allowed to not only project onto them but also make stupid little posts analyzing them #anyway yeah #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #brocedes

[whenthewallfell]

~The Many Legs of Peeta Mellark, or A Weirdly In-Depth Look at Panem Prosthetics~

Concept art for Peeta’s leg because I can (details below the cut)

Catching Fire: though the leg itself is removable, the cover is non-optional and the access panels can only be used by Capitol technicians. Due to how ornate it is it can get a bit heavy after long periods of wear, and there’s limited movement in the ankle which impedes walking. It’s designed to mimic the shape of the original leg so it fills out clothes nicely, but flashy enough to be worthy of a Victor should anyone see it. A very pretty prosthetic, but only slightly better than a peg leg. Mockingjay: this is what the prosthetic looks like without the fancy cover. It’s very no-nonsense with an advanced ankle component that has better range of motion without the casing, and features a rubber tread on the bottom of the foot blade to allow for better traction when chasing down and murdering his one true love. Although a vast improvement mobility-wise, it’s been permanently bolted to his leg and the control panels are all welded shut. Everything about this is short-term - they don’t care what happens to him once he’s killed Katniss.

Post War: when he’s caught in the explosion/fire from the bombs that got Prim his leg melts and fuses to his stump, so the doctors end up having to amputate even more. He’s given the choice to try out an experimental implant, which he accepts. This is vastly different from the other ones because he’s got so much autonomy - he can change the settings himself, remove the foot shell, opt in for a leg casing if he wants (he doesn’t). All in all it’s a very low maintenance leg, which suits him just fine, and because it’s an implant it finally feels like a part of him again.

#it's about character arcs as told through injuries #going from having no control over his life and being seen as the disposable 'other victor' who's alive only because of katniss #to being someone who's just allowed to exist and make his own decisions about his body #really pleased with the design for the capitol leg #think it's a nice mix of real anatomy and something vaguely art nouveau #are people tired of me talking about prosthetics yet? #is this what i'm gonna be known for? #the hunger games #peeta mellark #peeta's leg #<-- i guess this is a tag now lmao #fanart #mcbaart

[r0semultiverse]

Hey, Jake & Jack fans, is this anything?

Both men imprisoned (literal & metaphorical).

Both offered an out from their current predicament by an outside force (arguably in the case of Brain Ghost Dirk).

Both have loose ties to Lord English visually.

Yellow initial glow & Gamzee involvement too.

Sometimes a guy just needs to explode (same pose too).

Both dual wielding weapons.

That same said weapon type (for Jack Noir) having killed Jane Crocker.

It's really looking like Jake is going to do her in.

I would also like to point out that we've had interactions involving these three (Jane, Jake, and Brain Ghost Dirk) before that consisted of similar topics & themes.

Brain Ghost Dirk implying that he's just there as moral support, a manifestation of Jake's powers, and as a coping mechanism. Jane also talking about ruling an empire with him while talking down to him, similar to how she saw and/or still sees him in Beyond Canon's Candy timeline. Jake also being uncertain about doing anything to harm her despite all the bad things she's doing.

Brain Ghost Dirk going away tells us that Jake's more hopeful than he's ever been. This is the moment where he is the most sure of his decisions than he's ever been in his life, whatever those decisions may be in regards to Jane and how to handle this situation.

He is probably going to shoot Jane down, quite literally. I would also argue that after all this time, the lad isn't beating the Lord English allegations. We might as well have a parallel of him killing Jane much like how Jack Noir killed her right before he got possessed by Lil Cal & given some of Lord English's immense power.

Alternatively maybe we'll get to see what the power of hope or hope bullets can do to someone whose done so much wrong & come so far off the deep end in terms of moral wrongdoings. Maybe with every shot that hits her, she'll begin to be swayed to the side of good & start to self-reflect.

I'm still not fully convinced that Gamzee actually cured Tavros' peanut allergy, I mean just look at the panel.

This could absolutely be interpreted as Jake injecting his hope power into the epipen and by proxy injecting both his power & the epipen into his son! If younger Jake is strong enough to defeat Grimbark Jade, then adult Jake might just be strong enough to defeat a peanut allergy is all I'm saying! In fact, now that I'm rambling about it, this seems like the more likely outcome is Jake's hope power swaying or (in the very least) confusing Jane mid-fight. Hope bullets, they would look cool & would be pretty strong!

The power of believing in others & wanting things to change can be a strong tool indeed, Mister English.

If there's one person who still believes in changing Jane's mind (or bringing her back to proper canonicity depending on how you interpret the recent lore), it would be Jake English, the believer.

Okay, maybe this is something! Tally ho!

#I have not seen anyone talk about the visual; story; & character parallels yet so allow me to jump up on this box real quick #gonna start shouting into this megaphone because holy crap I just now noticed this somehow only just now #I know & am aware some of these are probably a stretch & the order of events isn't exactly the same; but hear me out okay? #did the writing team remember & know they were doing this??? anyone feel free to answer or ask one of them on twitter I just want #to know out of pure curiosity though i can see how answering something like this might be spoiler territory this early into beyond canon #Jake is on the war path & I love that for him; I trust him to rage responsibly tbh #this started off as me being certain of one hs outcome; but now im more certain of the other; feel free to guess which is which #I'm not here to say whether I agree with Jake or disagree with how he's going to handle the Jane Crocker situation; I'm just doing analysis #& finding parallels that may or may not be intentional because at this point I'm honestly not sure; but i figured it was worth pointing out #jack noir lord english and jake english parallels real? only time will tell; but i look forward to the coming updates to hs^2 or hsbc #homestuck beyond canon #homestuck #jake english #homestuck^2 #homestuck 2 #jane crocker #jack noir #homestuck theory #brain ghost dirk #homestuck candy #cw blood #homestuck upd8 #upd8 #homestuck spoilers #also yes i avoided having the flashing images be flashing images on purpose; less hassle with tags & stuff & things even if it looks cool

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

I wanna know ur Fontaine msq criticisms 👁️👁️👂I’m all ears

I'm not sure if you wanted me to talk about this secretly or publicly but! Here I go!

The TLDR: Fontaine MSQ aestheticised prison, poverty, child abuse, the justice system/court and didn't properly address any of it.

More:

Focalors/Furina has way too much of a sympathetic angle for a dictator who's lets people drown with her inaction.

Neuvillette feels Bad for sentencing some people to death/prison, but that's it. He's one of the most powerful people in Fontaine. If he felt like there are systemic injustices, I.E sending an abused Child to prison, he should be the first person to DO something about it, not just cry and be sad so the audience can be like aw, that's complex character writing isn't it? No it's not! And guilt doesn't absolve you!!!!!!! (These are stuff we deal with in OTCOJ read my fic now /j)

Meropide has children in it, both Sentenced there (Wriothesley) and BORN THERE (Lanoire), and this is just a quirk of the place. Not only that, Meropide accepts prisoners of all genders and crimes. There are abusers and abuse victims in one place. Do you know how bad that is? How much potential for crimes to happen in a place like that— oh wait, Meropide isn't under Fontaine's jurisdiction. If you are assaulted as an inmate it literally means nothing to the court.

Wriothesley had no qualifications when he took over. Depending on how long he lived on the streets, how old he was when he killed his parents, how old he was when he was first taken in by the orphanage, etc, the man might never have more than 4–5 years of formal education. Sigewinne probably had to teach him how to write reports. And do Meropide's spreadsheets. Edit because I forgot to elaborate on this one: This isn't a point brought up anywhere, which is bad, because when poverty and incarceration robs you of a proper education (and the rights to vote in many places too, too, by the way), it reduces your prospects for jobs, reduces many people's ability to get a home etc etc. Wriothesley was just, narratively, Given his position.

Meropide is an industrialized prison, and they portray this as a good thing. Prisoners are paid in coupons for their labour, and this is also portrayed as a good thing.

The One-Meal-A-Day reform was something Paimon gushed about being so great of a perk, that people might want to go to jail for food (could be interesting and reflective of systemic poverty if MHY had brains, but they don't, so I was just Pissed because essentially all Paimon wanted to say was "Prison isn't so bad, but still don't go to prison guys! Prison labour is really hard!"). By the way, in most real-world prisons they are obligated to feed you three meals a day. Because that's how much food a human needs. MHY went with one meal just so they can say "if you want to eat more, you have to work." And then the welfare meal is a goddamn gacha. So imagine you're a starving child who's too weak to work in the fucking robot assembly line, and you wander up for your first meal in 24 hours, only to luck in with a shit one. I'd kill myself.

They wrote Wriothesley, who's a victim of the system, into a guy who's say shit like "I'm the Duke I can do whatever I want" for a cool moment where he choke-slams an inmate (I know he was a bad guy. But also, in copaganda when cops are violent/disregarding protocols, they are always only portrayed to do that against bad guys, so what does our critical thinking tells us about this one?) They wrote Wriothesley, who was an inmate of a prison so bad, so notorious that it is the literal boogeyman of Fontaine, that has a legal (???) fighting pit, with an administrator who abuses his position to be unreasonable, to willingly stay in the place and become an Administrator who would choke-slam an inmate while saying a cool line about how he has the power to do whatever he wants. They wrote him, the guy who had to be fed on the streets by melusines, to think one-meal-a-day was a good enough reform (while he spends god-knows how much on his boat). This wasn't a victim-turns-into-abuser narrative either, they want all this to be seen as positive character growth.

And then, the final kicker is, they gloss over his entire abuse. You can only read about these shit in his profile, which most people don't because they don't Have Him or doesn't care to unlock it/read it online, and they jammed his entire backstory into a flaccid info-dump at the end of his character story quest. This man isn't Allowed to feel abused and neglected and show any reaction to it within the narrative of Fontaine itself, because if they actually Gave Weight to what happened to him, they'd have to confront THE FUCKING JUSTICE SYSTEM they had NO PLANS on criticising. I don't think they ever explicitly said the fucking Crime-Theatre nonsense was Bad either.

I could go on, but this is already so long. But yeah, I hope this gave you an idea.

#and then. and im putting my most controversial opinion in the tags bc im scared lmao. but like... then... you have the fans..... doing...... #the same fucking thing. #the amount of times I have seen Wriothesley used as just a side prop for Neuvillette to feel bad about shit. While Wriothesley is just..... #portrayed as having the inner peace and acceptance of a fucking monk. I was shocked when I read some fics I swear #they really said this man has no trauma at all! the stuff in his past? he's over it! #i hate that passivity when writing victims. like ok if One is written like that #sure. but MHY write all their victims like this #I mean look at fucking Lanoire #and Neuvillette sentenced him to prison after he killed his parents who were never confronted by the law. That's canon. #that's more canon than WRLT itself. #why weren't they confronted? did wriothesley try to talk to someone about it? why did he feel like killing them is his only option ????? #at least have there be some sort of conflict and friction there. How does Wriothesley feel about the court and Neuvillette when #this is the literal system that allowed all that shit to happen to him in the first place??? #are you Sure he won't be at least a little wary? the fact that some people think he's Grateful to Neuvillette or even idolises him is crazy #because the man literally subjected him to prison. and if you want to portray his prison life as easy breezy and trauma free #you undermine his entire shitty little 'prison reform' narrative #and if you think he'd be completely 100% accepting of the justice system. Then why the fuck would he kill his parents himself #don't you see that the whole 'I'll accept whatever sentence in order to kill my parents' thing in itself is an act of defying the system #and I Hate #this idea. about being some of the most powerful men in the nation. and yet they can't fucking TRY to set up a better system or smth #i can't believe I read a fic where leaving starving street kids croissants is the most they (the characters and the writer) want to do #like. what the fuck. the whole point of that scene is just to make neuvillette feel bad and be like aw......... poor people exist.... OK??? #this is literally how MHY would portray him though.... tbf..... This is what ppl would argue as 'in character' #I just think the character they're in is bad. #I will say I'm giving the fic a lot of grief. there's more to the scene than that. and. ultimately..... #fanfic is (saying this through gritted teeth) ........ recreational....................and free........... in the end................. #i dont think this is reflective of the writer. I do think it is reflective of the way the canon material (genshin impact) #presents in the audience who consumes it. most fans only want these guys to fuck anyway. not think about systemic injustices #canon doesn't make it about the systemic injustices either so why should we. the aesthetic of slums and prisons are just there for fun guys #IM JUST CRAZY OK. I SHOULDNT EVEN BE HERE THIS IS NOT FOR ME . I DONT CARE THAT MUCH FOR PEOPLE FUCKING AND I CARE TOO MUCH

[knifearo]

i say it all the time but being aromantic fucking rocks actually. loneliness is one thing but being aro + romance averse had me confront the amatonormative expectation of romantic partnering and you know what i'm NOT worried about now? having a partner. sharing a bed with someone. kissing someone. being held by someone. cause all those physical + emotional needs can be fulfilled by all the people i hold dear in my life and it is no loss of mine to not have a partner. and it's so radical and empowering to say that i don't care and i don't fucking want one! i like being by myself! I HOPE I DIE ALONE ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

#WILL SAY IT FOREVER AND EVER! FUCK PARTNERING! I HOPE I DIE ALONE!!! #literally the power of it. my fucking life. it's for me. and i hope i die alone #aromantic #aromanticism #arospec #aro positivity #loneliness as an expression of total detachment from other people is a separate issue from the romantic loneliness that i see. #which is so fucking lame tbh. no shame to people feeling sad that they don't have a partner specifically #not their fault that they haven't broken out of that amatonormativity yet and obvi ppl are allowed to want what they want #but like. lmao. could NOT be me at this point in my life <3 #i am enjoying who i am and the prospect of a future as myself so much... #and being totally free from that manufactured structured loneliness in the absence of a romantic partner is fucking awesome. #it's me and myself babe but i am NOT framing myself as my own partner. #i am one person and ultimately my life is about me. and i love and fucking treasure myself. and i'm so excited to die alone #talking

[grandwretch]

only i must wander, pt 2

[on ao3][pt 1]

content warnings: non-graphic discussions of racism, bigotry, murder, and child abuse. i go into more detail on ao3.

Before Steve even had a chance to breathe, Robin was human again. A furrow in her brow creased her smooth skin, frustration at the forced woge evident. Her eyes– blue, Steve noted, unlike the gold they had been a moment before –held Steve's gaze for a moment before sliding away. 

Her quick return to humanity did not negate the familiar rush of adrenaline. Steve's body had locked up the moment her eyes had flashed at him, torn between two instincts. Just as he'd feared, the forefront of his mind was focused on violence. The enemy wasn't moving, unarmed and currently disguised as a human, but that only meant that Steve had the advantage; There was a blade on the far counter, dull but usable, and if he needed to run, there was a window over her shoulder. 

He'd probably survive the fall. 

But as much as his body wanted to shove his new manager– Seriously, what was that guy's name, again? –to the side and lunge for the knife, Steve refused to give in. Hopper had told him he could power through these instincts, but it didn't feel like fighting. It felt like hiding. Like he if he didn't move, didn't breathe, then the terror of his own brain couldn't find him. 

The manager said something. Steve didn't hear, didn't care, all of his senses attuned to Robin and her every move. 

Robin stood, and Steve felt his entire body shift. It wasn't a flinch, not so much movement that the manager would clock it, but he… His fingers twitched into loose fists, his posturing changing as his hips and feet moved to a more dynamic stance. It didn't look like much, just a nervous guy fidgeting on his first day at work, but Steve could feel his body revving up for a fight. 

And judging by the look in Robin's eyes, she might actually give it to him. 

"I can show him around the back," Robin said, smiling at the manager. "We used to go to school together. It'll give us time to catch up." The friendliness on her face was obviously fake, plastic-y and barely an effort. But if the manager noticed, he didn't care. 

"Good looking out, Rob. I needed to give Patrick his break, anyway," he said. "Steve, I'll see you in about thirty minutes to finish up your paperwork?" 

It hurt to make himself nod, his body unwilling to give in to the extraneous movement. Stilted though it was, the manager was happy enough to accept it. He smiled, nodded, and left them alone in the room. 

The woge had rippled back across Robin's face before the door even shut behind him. Now that he was expecting it, Steve could see more of the details of her second face. Unlike Dustin, the fur sprouting on her face was mostly white, and it faded into the same reddish-brown as her hair. Her teeth and nose lengthened, a subtle snout protruding from her face. The biggest change, however, was her eyes: They glittered gold, larger and more fierce than her human gaze. 

Steve wasn't great at this Wesen thing yet, but Dustin had told him that tons of Wesen had attributes of animals, and Robin was obviously one of them. Would knowing which one help him in a fight? She was obviously something furry and mean, like some kind of cat… Or maybe a fox? 

Robin met his curious gaze, and Steve watched her face grow even angrier at what she saw there. 

Before Steve could even wonder which sins she saw reflected back in his eyes, Robin was taking large, furious steps towards him. 

Not even Steve's dedication to not hurting anyone could power through his need to not be murdered in an ice cream shop by an angry Wesen. He gave up on the idea of the blade– It was too far, on the other side of teeth and claws, and he wasn't willing to risk it for a sub-par weapon. Instead, he reached out for the first thing he could get his hands on. 

It turned out to be an ice cream scoop. 

Steve had half a mind to be embarrassed of his own instincts, but in the next breath a hundred scenarios flooded through his mind. He could use the handle as brass knuckles, use the added force to break her nose, pushing the cartilage into her brain. But would the Wesen bone structure allow for it? He couldn't be sure. That was why he obviously had to go for the eyes, using the slight point of the scoop to remove an eye from the socket. But– 

Bile rose in his throat, and Steve forced himself to swallow even as plan after plan sprouted fully-formed in his mind. 

"Please don't make me hurt you," he said, his voice shaking in his throat. "I really don't want to hurt you." 

The plea only deepened the disgust on Robin's face, and she took one more step towards him. Steve planted his feet, twirling the scoop to reverse his grip when she bared her teeth at him. He would definitely have to take a few teeth out first. 

"Why am I not surprised that King Steve is a fucking Grimm?" Robin growled, the unfamiliar word like a curse in her mouth. It was obviously supposed to mean something to him, supposed to hurt, but the best Steve could do was confusion. 

Confusion so deep, in fact, that it helped dull the rage and terror that Steve couldn't tame. He felt his muscles relax by centimeters, the energy going instead towards trying to figure out what the fuck that was supposed to mean. 

"What the fuck is a Grimm?" 

He would have thought it was his Wesen name, although it didn't exactly sound like Hexenbiest or Eisbiber. It sounded English, in fact, and although Dustin had lectured him a thousand times about why German and English sounded so similar, the familiarity unsettled Steve a bit. Sure, 'beast' wasn't exactly something you wanted to be called, but Steve was willing to say that 'grim' was a fair bit closer. 

"Please," Robin scoffed. When Steve could only blink at her, shrugging, her face changed to something that almost resembled pity. "You're kidding." 

"I have no fucking idea what you're talking about," Steve said. "What is that? A Grimm, I mean. Is that– Is that what I am?" 

Without another word, Robin dropped the woge and turned away from him, picking up the book she had abandoned on the table. 

"Look, I'm sorry that we got off on the wrong foot. I'm new at this Wesen thing, so I don't really know how to stop the eyes from giving people the wrong idea, but if you– If you know what I am, then maybe you could–" 

Laughter cut him off, and Robin shook her head, turning back around. "I'm not really interested in teaching a future serial killer how to do his job, thanks." 

Steve faltered. "I… what?" 

"Look, I don't care what you do outside of work. Do what you need to. But stay the fuck away from me, okay?" 

She wasn't meeting his eyes, Steve noticed. Not even really looking at him at all, even though it meant she was at a disadvantage if he attacked. It was just the tiniest gesture, submissive where everything else had been primed to offend, and Steve realized with a sinking stomach that she was scared. Robin was terrified of him, not in the way that El had been, but as a person. 

The adrenaline had long since faded, and Robin was still afraid that he would kill her. 

"I'm not…" Steve panted. "I wouldn't…." 

Robin didn't wait for him to find his words. She was out the door before he had even caught his breath, leaving the door banging behind her. 

It had been hell getting through the rest of the shift. It was, blessedly, a short one, more of an orientation than anything, but Steve still couldn't focus for more than five minutes. His brain kept repeating the words Robin had thrown in his face.

A future serial killer. What the fuck had that meant?

Steve didn't go home after his first shift. He had planned to, planned to celebrate with a long, hot shower and some take out. The anxiety that crept up when he was finally alone in his car didn't care what Steve had planned, however. Normally, he would have just called Dustin to puzzle it over, like he usually did with every other perplexing social interaction, but Dustin was only allowed one phone call a day, which meant Steve got to talk to him once a week. It was a blessing that Claudia had afforded him Sundays, honestly. So Steve turned to the only other person in this town who could put up with him for more than five minutes. 

Hopper didn't even bother to act surprised when Steve knocked on his door. "Rough day at work?" he said, a grin curled around the cigarette he had tucked into the corner of his mouth. 

"Wesen coworker," Steve said. 

That was enough explanation, apparently. "Fuck, kid," Hopper said, stepping back so Steve could slip past him into the living room. "You can't catch a break, huh?" 

"I… handled it better than I thought I would," Steve admitted as he crossed the room to throw himself onto the couch. "I almost threw up afterwards, but I didn't let it control me again." 

He heard the door close, and Hopper's heavy footsteps on the floor behind him. Steve couldn't see him from where his head lolled on the couch cushion, but he could see Hopper's shadow reaching across the floor. That was enough. 

"See, I knew you could do it," Hopper said, over the distinct sound of a fridge door opening. 

Steve huffed, thinking about the things Robin had said to him. Had called him. "She knew what I was," he said, because it felt wrong to acknowledge the praise when he was pretty sure he didn't deserve it. "Called me a Grimm." 

"That…" Hopper sounded as confused as Steve felt. "Now, I don't speak German, but I'm pretty sure that's just English." 

"I don't fucking know anymore, man. From what Dustin's been telling me, I think they might be the same thing." 

"Wouldn't that be useful?" Hopper scoffed. The fridge closed. "Did she bother to explain what it meant?" 

"N… no?" Steve swallowed. "I asked, but she wouldn't really…" 

Hopper rounded the couch and held an already sweating can of beer out. Steve accepted it with shaking hands. 

"She didn't say it like it was a nice thing," Steve said, finally. "Honestly, I think she assumed I was there to kill her." 

That certainly made Hopper pause. Steve watched him pause, halfway into his recliner, before finally forcing himself to complete the motion. They didn't speak for a moment, but Steve couldn't bring himself to drink. The idea of anything on his churning stomach made him sick. 

"Does it… matter?" Hopper said, eventually. 

Steve laughed, a strained, choking thing. "Does it matter?" he repeated, "Does it matter that apparently my entire– my entire species is supposed to kill people? Yeah, Hop, I would say it does." 

"That's not how–" Hopper shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Listen, don't go talking to Dustin about what I'm about to say, but from what I've heard from Claudia Henderson, I sometimes get the feeling that these Wesen folk are racist as hell." 

Steve blinked. "I don't think it's really the same thing." 

"Yeah?" Hopper's mouth twisted, a smile that made Steve shiver. "You weren't here when she was trying to explain to me what El was. Some of the stuff she said… She's not human, either, but she talked about El like she was worse than a monster. Like she would kill all of us in our sleep if we gave her the chance." 

Steve thought about it. It felt wrong, like a pebble in his shoe, to think about himself that way. He'd been very lucky growing up, he knew that. He had the money, the right looks, the right family. He couldn't imagine himself dealing with the same things that Lucas had gone through, for instance. But… Steve also thought about the things Dustin said, sometimes, about his mom not letting him be alone with El, how Steve himself probably wouldn't be allowed within five feet of him anymore when she discovered that Steve wasn't human. 

It wasn't the same thing, not at all, but it still didn't feel good.

"I'm not saying that she was right," Steve said, slowly, "but my instincts…" 

"You're not a fucking animal, kid," Hopper grunted. "Don't let them treat you like one." 

He raised the legs of his recliner, settling into the cushion with a pointed silence. The conversation was over, as far as Hop was concerned. 

Steve tried to be okay with that. Tried to be okay with the idea that they were wrong, not him. Every day, he woke up and tried again. It never really stuck. Some days were better than others. Some days, Steve could almost brush off Robin's glare without a single pang of guilt. Some days, Steve felt human. Most days he didn't. There was a voice in his head that said they were right, that it might be for the wrong reasons, but there was something wrong with him.

Robin only made it worse. Steve had tried to keep out of her way, but there were only so many excuses that could keep them off the same shifts. When they did work together, Robin never let up– He tried to keep quiet, keep his head down, but she would always find something to say. 

It was never nice. Of course. After a while, she didn't even seem fearful, just disgusted at his existence. Everything Steve did was under scrutiny, with Robin insulting everything from his hair to his customer service. Once, during a particularly intense rush, she hissed at him for breathing 'like a beast'. 

That's what she said. Like a beast. 

El was the only thing that helped. Hopper didn't understand, and Dustin was away at camp, but El was always happy to see him. Steve didn't talk about it much, not wanting to unload the mess in his head on a little girl, but Steve was sure El got it, anyway. 

Steve didn't know what Mrs. Henderson told her about being a Hexenbiest. He didn't want to know. Avoiding her was awkward enough without actively wanting to rip her apart for making El feel bad for something she couldn't control. 

And, yeah, he got the irony– It was different for El, okay? 

Hanging out with El was different than hanging with Dustin and the others. While the boys left Steve with the same happy, tired feeling as a good swim meet, El made him feel… grounded. Restored. He didn't know if that was personality or power, but he was sure that was the only thing keeping him sane. 

After bad days, Steve would drive straight to the cabin. Hopper would always roll his eyes and grouse about Steve keeping his daughter up all hours, but he never actually turned Steve away. (Besides he loved it when El would kick Mike out for Steve. He never laughed harder.) They would commandeer the couch, chasing Hopper off to the kitchen nook, and watch movies or music videos Steve had taped. Sometimes, El read out loud to Steve, instead; Her vocabulary was improving in leaps and bounds. Once night settled fully, they would go out onto the porch and talk until El couldn't form words around her yawns. 

They never talked about the Wesen thing. Everything else was fair game, though. Sometimes it was simple things, like what it was like to love a Wheeler, or if Lucas and Will would like the book they just finished. Sometimes El talked about the lab, about the siblings she'd lost. Sometimes Steve admitted, nervous every time, that when his parents were home he felt like a cornered animal. Max joined them from time to time, the conversations becoming all the more bittersweet. 

Sure, making yet another thirteen year old best friend probably wasn't the healthiest thing Steve had ever done, but it got him out of bed and into work every morning. That was more than enough, for now. 

El must have said something to the other kids, because they started showing up at work more often. Every day, in fact, even when they'd long since run out of allowance to spend on ice cream. They weren't obvious about it, only popping by to tell him about their day or beg for free samples, except for Max. 

Max, ever the protector, loved to come by on days Robin worked. Her new favorite hobby was sitting at a table for hours and yelling over Robin whenever she spoke. Max always got Steve's employee discount. 

"You do not look happy," El said one night. Max had still been in the lobby when Steve clocked out, so they'd driven to the cabin together instead of going home. 

"I'm fine," Steve said, automatically, straightening himself from his slump. 

"He has to work with Robin all next week," Max said, ignoring Steve's noise of protest. "She was complaining about it loud enough for half the mall to hear." 

"Hm." El's eyes narrowed. Then, as if the moment had never happened, she turned towards Steve's stack of tapes. "I want to watch the Muppets." 

Steve really shouldn't have been surprised when El showed up with Max the next day.

The moment he registered her bright, familiar grin, Steve felt his veins go cold. It was a strange, almost alien feeling now to be afraid without the all-consuming adrenaline and rage of his woge. Instead of forcing himself to stay still, he was stuck , unable to do anything but watch Max and El approach the counter. 

"Hi, Steve!" El said, smiling. She looked so happy, all dolled up in new clothes and light makeup, and Steve wanted to be happy for her. He really did. Hopper's voice in his head simply wouldn't let him. 

"You are not supposed to be here," Steve said, voice dropping into a whisper. Max rolled her eyes and Steve felt the anger break through the icy grip of fear, finally letting him round the counter to herd them into the corner. "Did you sneak her out, Mayfield?" 

"It's the mall, Harrington," she sniped, crossing her arms. "No one's looking for her here. She'll be fine." 

"Government agents and mad scientists have to shop, too," Steve said. "... Probably."

El leaned into Steve's side, pouting up at him. Which, honestly, was cheating, because El knew that Steve had never been able to say no to puppy dog eyes. When she finally let Dustin in on that trick, his life was officially over. He could already feel himself starting to waver. 

"We came to help," El said, wrapping her arms around Steve's waist. "Don't be mad." 

"I'm not…" Steve took a deep breath. "I'm not mad. I'm worried. There's a difference." 

Max was no longer paying attention. Instead, she was staring at the front counter, face drawn into a tight scowl. "El. That's her." 

Robin stood at the counter, obviously staring. Not at the girl who was glaring daggers into her, but El and Steve. It almost didn't register at first; Steve had gotten pretty used to constantly having Robin's attention on him when they worked together. As El calmly returned Robin's stare, however, Steve noticed that the usual anger on Robin's face wasn't present. She looked almost surprised, instead, with a heavy dose of confusion. 

Which made sense, he guessed, if she could tell El was a Wesen. 

He put his hand on El's back, a protective gesture that he hoped Robin would understand as a line in the sand. Her gaze didn't waver. 

"I want to talk to her," El said, voice strangely flat. 

"Absolutely not," Steve said. "She's almost an adult, and you can't fight back without… getting yourself in trouble." 

"Then can I…" 

"No," Steve sighed. "Is this really what you snuck out for? To bother my coworker with your magic powers?" 

"And shopping," Max said brightly. 

El didn't answer. When Steve looked down at her, her cheek still pressed into his uniform shirt, he watched the woge settle across her face. 

" Jane Hopper, " Steve hissed. Over the past weeks, he had gotten more than used to El's Wesen face, and had become as fond of it as he was her cherub-cheeked human form. That didn't mean he was an idiot, though; He knew an intimidation tactic when he saw one. 

He also saw Robin's face go absolutely white as the blood drained from her face. There was a moment where the girls' gazes held, Robin's hypnotized by the black pits of El's, and then Robin squeaked and scuttled into the back room. 

"Guys, you can't…" Steve began, but when Max and El both looked up at him with matching mischievous grins, he couldn't hold back his chuckles. "Thank you, but seriously. Never do this again."

El tilted her head up, chin digging into Steve's stomach, to meet his gaze. "No one is allowed to bully you." 

"That so?" Steve said, a fond smile stealing across his face.

Solemn, El responded, "Will says big brothers need to be protected sometimes, too." 

"Oh." Steve turned the loose embrace into a proper hug, suddenly overcome with affection. His whole life he'd been alone, and now he had two little siblings. How cool was that? He hummed, a hand smoothing down El's curls as she squeezed him tight. 

Max watched them with a look Steve couldn't decipher, the beginnings of a frown on her face. Maybe three little siblings, he corrected himself, and reached one hand out to her. 

"Ew," Max complained, but let herself be pulled into his side anyway. 

"I care about you both so much ," Steve said, voice low. "Which is why you're going home right now, before Hopper finds out you left and you get so grounded I can't see you again until I'm 40." 

"Dad is in Layton," El said, eyes twinkling. "We have hours ." 

"And tickets to Back to the Future," Max said, smug as anything. 

Steve sighed and pushed flyaway hairs back from Max's forehead. "Fine, but be careful. I saw the  boys here earlier. Try to get a ride home with Jonathan or Nance. And stick together ." 

"Okay, mom, " Max said, rolling her eyes as she pulled away. 

El giggled like it was the funniest joke she's ever heard. "Yeah, mom ." 

Steve shook his head and shooed them out, mumbling meaningless threats of narcking to Hopper. Once they were out of his sight, swallowed by the churn of the crowd, Steve felt himself deflate. The performance of big brother kept him afloat, chest filling with warmth, but when he was supposed to be just Steve…

He bit his lip and returned to the service counter, ignoring the unmistakable feeling of a gaze glued to his back. 

The next month flew by much the same as the first had, though if Max and El snuck out again, they knew better than to come to Scoops. Robin's ire, now two months deep, now inspired more melancholy in Steve than frustration. 

It was astonishingly easy to descend into self-pity, lately, and with every insult or smart remark Steve couldn't help but feel he'd lost something. Not just for himself, but for El and Dustin, too. Nothing concrete, but rather a bond, the chance of a connection to the greater Wesen community. A connection that should have already belonged to El and Dustin, denied to them by deception and fear. 

And now by the virtue of loving Steve. 

Steve tried not to dwell on it too much. He kept himself busy, between work and helping Hop at the cabin, and counted down the days until Dustin would be home. Until their tiny pack of three would be complete again. 

The day Steve woke up to a tiny beaver sticker on his calendar, not even Robin could knock the smile off his face. He could tell it bothered her, too, and for once the mumbling under breath only made him smile harder. 

His brother was coming home. 

Steve was on his break when he heard Dustin's voice, clear as a bell, for the first time in months. "Is he here?" 

Robin answered, clearly bored, but Steve paid no mind to what she had to say. He was already out of his seat by Dustin's final syllable. Steve sprinted out of the break room, skidding out of the door as his own speed overwhelmed him. And there he was, Dustin Henderson, a whole two inches taller than Steve had last seen him. 

His smile was blinding. 

"I can't believe you actually wear that," Dustin said, his smile only growing wider. 

"You little shit," Steve said, then leapt over the counter. He didn't put much thought into it, hadn't considered that he might not be able to clear it. He'd only thought– Oh, it would be so much faster to go over than around. And then he'd done it, shoes squeaking on the linoleum as he landed on the other side. 

"Wow, you must have really missed me," Dustin said, and then he said nothing at all, because Steve was scooping him into a hug. 

"I regret it immediately," Steve said, but he didn't let go. If anything, his own gentle teasing just made him squeeze harder, as if Dustin would take his teasing as truth and leave again. "When can I send you back?" 

Dustin slapped him on the back, his usual sign he wanted to be let down, now, please. "If you suffocate me I'm not going to make it until next time." 

"Sorry, man," Steve said. He lowered Dustin to the floor and then stepped back. Through all his sheepishness, he still didn't stop smiling; Not even the embarrassment could dim the sheer relief Steve felt having everyone he loved back in the same city limits. "How was camp?" 

"Who gives a shit? I can't believe they actually hired you!" 

"Fuck off, Henderson, seriously." 

And then, naturally, they fell into their handshake. It was a stupid, geeky tradition that Steve had been pulled into unwillingly, but he had to admit that half the moves were his idea. Even the lightsaber fight, which they had choreographed on Mrs. Henderson's couch after a hearty meal of Christmas leftovers. Steve thought the spilling of his guts was particularly inspired, even if Dustin often complained that disembowelment was both non-canon and unscientific. 

As if the little shit didn't giggle every time. 

"No, but seriously," Steve said as he recovered from his dramatic demise, "how was camp, man? Let me go on my break, you can tell me everything–" 

"Absolutely not," Robin said from the counter. Dustin turned to her, eyebrows raised, and Steve internally sighed. He was not looking forward to explaining all this to Dustin, who was protective on the best days and mocking on the worst. Whatever the kid's opinion would be, Steve was sure it would just make him feel worse. 

Before could even protest the double standard of Robin having already taken two breaks to his zero, Robin did the unthinkable– She woged at Dustin, human teeth already bared before they shifted into fangs. Steve was proud of how Dustin reacted, though, meeting Robin's gaze head-on even though Steve could see his black little nose quiver in terror. The instinctual response woge had settled over Dustin, his fear plain as day, but he didn't give a centimeter. 

Good, Steve thought, as he whirled on Robin. 

Robin's anger matched his own before Steve could even open his mouth, as if he were the one who had been unspeakably rude. As if he was the one making thinly veiled threats of violence in public. As if he were the one who kept woging in public, every time risking more and more exposure. It only made the rage burn brighter. 

"What the fuck is your problem, Buckley?" Steve could tell from the flicker of Robin's golden eyes that he was woged now, too, and he knew he was supposed to fight it. Part of him wanted to try. But for once, the human and Wesen instincts were in complete accordance. No version of Steve Harrington was going to let anything happen to Dustin. 

"I can't believe you," Robin said. There was an animalistic rumble underneath her voice, a vocalization that Steve's ears could only just make out. "The audacity of a Grimm knows no bounds, apparently." 

That word again. Whatever the fuck it meant. 

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Steve ignored the confused glances Dustin kept throwing his way, the hand clenched in the hem of his shirt. There was no way he was taking his eyes off an angry predator. 

"I thought it was really weird when that little 'biest was here, hanging off of you," Robin continued, "but everyone knows that they're all buddy-buddy with the Royals, so I figured it was business. But this? Preying on a little prey kid? That's low, Harrington, even for you." 

It was a stupid, cruel assumption to make. The kind of thing Tommy would have said in high school. The kind of thing Steve would have laughed at, a few years ago. Now, though, Steve's stomach dropped somewhere he couldn't feel it, leaving only a hollow pit behind. Was it by simple virtue of that word– Grimm, Steve thought with a daze –that made Robin so sure he was capable of something so foul? Or was it something he had done, once, when he had been so desperate for approval? He didn't think that even King Steve at his worst had been so horrible to earn him this. 

Steve stuttered, his breath caught in his throat. Dustin had no such trouble. 

"Hey!" Dustin said, his voice going squeaky with anger. "That's my best friend you're talking to." 

Robin looked at him with as much condescension as Carol Perkins had ever managed, her nose twitching with disgust. "You don't know what he's like, kid." 

Unfortunately for her, Dustin Henderson was the one child on planet earth who didn't deign to even acknowledge being treated like one. "I'm pretty sure I know him better than you . I don't know where you got your information, but Steve has saved my life multiple times, and–" 

"I really don't think she needs to know about all that," Steve said quickly. His heart was rabbiting in his chest just thinking about trying to explain away stories about demodogs and lab experiments to a girl who already hated his guts. 

"Do your parents know that you've been hanging out with a Grimm?" Robin asked, apparently ignoring the saving-Dustin's-life thing. Thank god. 

Dustin stiffened, probably because Mrs. Henderson absolutely would freak if she knew Steve was any kind of Wesen, much less one bad enough for all the shit Robin had been talking. "I don't know what a Grimm is," Dustin said, eventually, his voice oddly stilted. "But it doesn't matter. He's Steve ." 

For once, Robin looked as confused as Steve felt, like, 75% of the time. "You honestly don't know– Hold on." She snapped and turned to Steve. "You. When you said you didn't know what a Grimm was, you just weren't playing dumb?" 

"No," Steve said, and it came out a plea. "My parents never told me any of this shit, if they're even my parents–" And that felt wrong to say, bad to say, because Steve didn't know who he was without being Bradley Harrington's son first. "--and you're only, like, the third Wesen I've ever met." 

"You couldn't ask ?" 

Steve swallowed back the snarky answer, knowing what Robin was really asking. "What was I supposed to do, call my parents up like, 'Hi Mom and Dad, sorry to interrupt your very important meeting, I was wondering if you knew anything about us being monsters'? Does that sound like a conversation I should have on the phone?" It didn't help that Steve was pretty sure the government had been tracking his phone calls since 1983. 

"But…" Robin's eyes narrowed, shifting back to their human shape and color. "You started working here two months ago." 

Steve nodded, stomach churning. "Yeah." 

"So are you going to tell us what a Grimm is or not?" Dustin said. When Steve finally looked over at him, he still looked pissed, arms crossed and glaring, but Steve recognized that sparkle in his eyes. Little shit was ecstatic to be learning the lore behind Steve's whole deal, that was more than apparent. 

That made one of them. 

"I only know what my parents have told me," Robin said, slowly. She wouldn't look Steve in the eyes anymore, which wasn't exactly a great sign. Steve's throat contracted, forcing bile back down. "I've never met one in real life, before Harrington. I honestly wasn't sure they were still real. I thought they were… I don't know, stupid stories that parents tell to make their kids behave, you know? Like the boogie man." 

"But you knew Steve was one," Dustin said. Less of a question, more of an interrogation. Point out their own contradictions, wait for more information. Steve was pretty sure he'd picked that one up from watching Hopper grill Mike. 

"His eyes," Robin said. Her eyes darted up to meet Steve's gaze for only a moment before they fell back to the floor. "The stories all have them. Black mirrors that show you all the worst parts of yourself, every sin you've ever committed. It's supposed to be, like… Making you repent before, you know. They kill you." 

"So I'm a killer?" Steve said, his tongue numb in his mouth. 

Robin grimaced. "Kinda? They used to be… like knights, I think. In service to the Royals– Wait, do you know about the Seven Houses?" 

"The Royals," Steve muttered to himself, in a daze. 

"We'll go back to that," Dustin said, glancing at Steve from the corner of his eye. "What were you saying about knights?" 

"Right, so the Grimms worked as knights while the Seven Houses were establishing their claims in the Wesen world. It was basically a way for them to keep their Wesen subjects in line so that the royals could focus on human affairs. But then… Well, I don't really know what happened, but they stopped being knights and became…" Robin sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. "Vigilantes?" 

"Like Batman?" Dustin asked, disbelieving. 

"More like the Punisher." 

"Can we please talk in a language the person whose existence hinges on this conversation can understand?" Steve asked, his voice rising in volume with every word. 

"I don't know what you want me to say, Harrington," Robin said, her voice coming quicker than he had ever heard her speak before. "They kill people, okay? Sure, it's usually, like, Wesen who have killed humans before or whatever but there are stories of them just going to town on entire packs of predator species before. My dad's even told me of some groups of Grimm who kill Wesen on sight so they don't have the opportunity to commit crimes later. And it's like, do I really think the high school bully is a serial killer? No, not really, but it's really hard to externalize that when I have vivid memories of my mom telling me about how her great-great-great-great-grandmother's head got put on a spike outside the city walls for selling love potion to some stupid humans."

"Oh, that's– Sorry for your loss," Dustin said, automatically. 

Robin raised an eyebrow. "You know I didn't know her, right?" 

Steve heard neither of them through the rushing in his ears. Was it just him, or were the walls closer together than they had been five minutes ago? The floor felt malleable beneath his feet, like he was standing on top of water. Steve stumbled over to a table and sat gingerly, his hands shaking. 

He wasn't exactly sure how long had passed when Dustin came to him, a hand on his shoulder. 

"Steve?" he said, tentatively. "You okay?" Robin stood behind him, concern breaking through her careful nonchalance. 

"Hopper was wrong," he said, thickly. "I am a monster." 

"No–" Dustin began, but Robin cut him off with a scoff. 

"We're all kind of monsters, Harrington, it comes with the territory," she said with a sneer. "At least you still look human." 

"Yeah?" Steve said, his voice cracking. "How many people do you think Dustin's ancestors killed? Matter of fact, have you ever heard of a single Grimm that wasn't a killer?" Even though the question was mostly sarcastic, some part of him still hoped she would defy him, give him some proof that he wasn't meant to be a terrible person. His eyes watched her face twist in embarrassment. 

"Well… no, I haven't," Robin said, eyes darting towards Dustin. 

"Exactly," Steve said, nodding even as his shoulders deflated. "Exactly, exactly. I'm meant to… I'm meant to be a terrible person, and nothing I do– Nothing I've ever done–" Steve took a deep breath, felt it rattle in his chest, heard it wheeze through the throat that was quickly closing around his rising panic. 

"Oh, you're–" Dustin shook his head, turning to Robin. "He's– Do you have a back room?" 

"Uh, yeah, behind the counter," Robin said, blinking. 

"Alright, help me get him back there." 

Things got a little hazy after that. Steve wasn't sure how they got him to the back room, although he had the vague impression of his arms looped over both their shoulders, off jerking away from Robin's touch with a pained noise. The next thing he knew, he was sitting in a chair in the back, Robin perched on the far counter, Dustin's hands on his shoulders. 

"Steve, can you hear me?" Dustin said, and from the lack of inflection in his voice, Steve had the inclination that it wasn't the first time he'd been asked. 

"Yeah," he croaked. 

"Good," Dustin said, relief flooding his face. "I think you're having another panic attack." 

Steve flushed with shame. He hadn't one of those in months, since the chill had finally faded from the air and every night stopped reminding him of junkyards and tunnels and blue Camaros. In comparison, this seemed a little pathetic, but even that small amount of logic couldn't shake the fact that his brain was still sending him signals of flee danger predator run . 

When Steve didn't answer, Dustin squeezed his shoulders. "Do you want to talk about it, or do you want us to leave?" 

"We are not leaving a Grimm whose brain is god knows where alone in the back room where there are weapons– " Robin began. 

"You are not helping," Dustin interrupted through gritted teeth.

"She's right," Steve rasped. "We have no idea what I might do. You've seen what I try to do when my instincts go haywire." 

"You haven't actually done anything!" Dustin said, a none too gentle reminder. His anger was palpable, and Steve thought distantly of Hopper, of how disappointed he would be. Steve was going to be sick. "Remember your theory? You said that you thought the mirrored eyes were more like an evolutionary protection, maybe–" 

"Maybe I was literally born a murderer to protect myself?" Steve asked, laughing as the first tear slipped down his cheek. "I was wrong, Dustin. It happens. All the fucking time, apparently, because I've spent the last two years wondering how to be a good person, when it's impossible." 

"That's not how it–" 

"I'm supposed to kill you, Dustin," Steve said, harshly. "You heard her. You and El should both be dead, and maybe one day you will be." 

Steve watched the stubbornness set into Dustin's face and felt his heart break. He's never really wanted to hurt someone. Not really. That was why he kept losing all those stupid fucking fights, why he let Tommy push him around. Steve wanted to survive, and he wanted to protect, but he's never looked someone in the eyes and wanted to hurt them. But he could feel it in his chest, all the fucking time– that same rage he'd first felt when Dustin woged in front of him. And no matter how much Steve didn't want it, he was sure that one day it would swallow him whole.

"I don't believe that," Dustin said, "not for a fucking second." 

"What about my parents, Dustin?" Steve asked, meeting Dustin's eyes. For the first time, he wished that people didn't see the worst of themselves in his eyes, but the worst of Steve. That would keep them safe, wouldn't it? If they could see into his chest, at the sharp and jagged things there? "They're gone for months at a time–" 

"They're doing business!" 

"And they're all over the country, sometimes in Europe or Asia, and what the fuck do you think they're doing, Dustin? Like actually. Because I haven't bought the business excuse in years, and I know you're smarter than me, so what else could it be? I thought they were partying, or cheating on each other, or even just doing some regular fucking crime, but no–" Steve sobbed, the noise being pulled out of his chest. "Apparently, they might be killing people. What does that make me ?" 

"It doesn't make you anything," Dustin said, jaw set. "Even if you're right, which you're not ." 

"So you're not afraid of what might happen if you're staying the night the next time they come home?" 

Dustin hesitated, and Steve knew he had him. It fucking hurt, every second of it. Felt like removing his own skin with a scalpel, slow and methodical and never-ending, but it had to be done. He had to get Dustin away from danger, and right now the most dangerous thing in Hawkins was him.

"Kid, can you give us a second?" Robin's voice cut through the air and Steve flinched, his entire body twitching as his gaze was ripped away from Dustin. 

Stepping away, Dustin rubbed at his nose in a move that Steve knew had been picked up from him. "Yeah, yeah, sure." He couldn't get out of the break room fast enough, the door swinging behind him. 

"That was fucked up," Robin said as she hopped down from the counter. 

"Wasn't this exactly what you wanted?" Steve said, frustration and resentment built up from the past two months bubbling in his chest. "Him away from the monster?" 

Robin hesitated for a moment, then continued her short walk to the chair across from Steve. As she sat, she said, "I never called you a monster." 

"No, just a serial killer and a beast and a thousand other things around 'monster'," Steve said, rolling his eyes. 

He had honestly expected her to rise to the bait. She was the exact kind that was the easiest to torment, emotions too big for her body and never afraid to speak her mind until it was already out of her mouth. Robin didn't speak this time, though, just looked at him for a long moment, eyes narrowed. 

Eventually, she sighed, and turned away from him. "I'm sorry." 

Steve scoffed, disbelieving. "Okay." 

"No, I am. I… didn't really think about what it might mean if you actually didn't know, and I had no idea that I was putting people in danger by not explaining," she said, her hands in fists on her legs. She still wouldn't look at him, and Steve felt his stomach twist further. He had to get out of here before he vomited on the linoleum. 

"Well, you figured it out, and now they're safe, so if you'll please excuse me–" 

"No," Robin said, stilling him with a glare. "I meant you, dingus." 

"... Dingus?" Steve repeated. It was… oddly juvenile, after all the things she'd called him. 

Robin flushed. "I don't actually think you're, like, a killer or anything. Especially since you obviously haven't killed anyone. I just thought…" Her eyes slid away from him again. "You know, with Barb last year…" 

Nausea hit Steve in the stomach and he had to bend over, pressing his face to the cool surface of the table, to keep himself from gagging. "You thought I killed Barb?" He hated how small his voice sounded, suddenly, nothing like the rage-fueled creature he felt like he was becoming. 

"Obviously I was being an idiot because killers don't fucking have panic attacks in the dark about being a killer," Robin said. Steve wasn't sure that was entirely true, but he got her point. "I mean, like I said before, I stopped believing that shit like two weeks in. If you were actually a serial killer, I would be, like, so dead right now." 

"I never wanted to hurt you," Steve said, tired. 

"I know," Robin said, frowning. "And that's why I'm saying, I was an asshole, and I'm sorry." 

Steve swallowed. "It's fine." 

"It's really not," Robin said. "I could tell it made you upset, and it gave me this sick little thrill to finally know what got to King Steve, you know? Like I finally had something over you. And it made me feel…" 

"Powerful?" Steve suggested when her words trailed off. 

"Yeah," Robin said, her face pale. 

"I get it," Steve said, shrugging. "Why do you think I was such an asshole in high school?" 

Robin gave him a small smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Well, I never wanted to be that kind of person. So… You know, just because you were born a Grimm doesn't mean you have to be like them." 

Looking away, Steve said nothing. He'd already had the suspicion there was something wrong with him, Robin had just confirmed it. Her taking it back hadn't really changed his mind. Robin seemed to get that, and she squirmed in her seat for a moment. 

"I never told you what I am, did I?" she said, softly.

"... No," Steve said, frowning. "I thought maybe some kind of weasel?" 

That made her laugh, shaking her head as she smiled down at her hands. "Yeah, I guess maybe I deserve that. No, I'm a– I'm a Fuchsbau. A fox." The smile began to slip from her face, fists unclenching and curling back into claws again and again as she spoke. "That's part of why I freaked out so hard when I first recognized you as a Grimm. We're a predator species, you know? But not one of the big guys, not scary enough that they leave us alone. We're just mean . And… and sneaky . And cruel." 

Steve watched her, unable to speak. He had seen a little of that from her, over the past few weeks, so he wasn't entirely sure he was justified in defending her own self-worth, but… even as she said it, something didn't feel right to Steve. Sure, she was dick to him, like, specifically, but Steve had never seen her speak a harsh word to anyone else they worked with. Robin was usually pretty bored with customers, yeah, but she was patient, too. 

And whatever harshness did exist in her, it certainly wasn't subtle .

"That's why my parents moved here, you know. Fuchsbau don't usually have packs, and so it's kinda just… you and a bunch of Wesen who expect you to rip them off at the first chance," Robin continued, "so they came here to try and start fresh. And I don't think they ever really fit into what a Fuchsbau is supposed to be, and most times I'm pretty sure I don't, either, but sometimes…." 

Robin shrugged. "Sometimes I'm afraid it's somewhere inside of me, just waiting to get out." 

Oh. 

This was one of those pep talks that made Steve squirm, the kind where teachers and coaches and counselors all promised Steve that they absolutely understood what he was going through. As if they could understand what he was feeling through the little he'd actually admitted, as if the simple act of relation was enough to soothe the ache in his chest. Knowing other people hurt didn't make him bleed any less, but… it didn't chafe to hear it from Robin, like it did with the dozens of adults before him. He wasn't sure she actually understood, but at least she was trying. At least she wasn't just assuming things. Not anymore, anyway. 

"It's not exactly the same thing," Robin said, when Steve didn't speak. "But I–" 

"No, no." Steve's voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat. "Thanks. I think I needed to hear that. You're right, it's not exactly the same, but… But I think I might be able to fight this." 

"That's not exactly what I…" Robin said, then shook her head, standing. "Anyway, you should head home for the night." 

Steve blinked up at her. "I'm on schedule until closing." 

Shrugging, Robin said, "We're dead, and, no offense, but you're probably not going to be much help tonight, anyway. I'll cover you. Just… get some sleep, Harrington." 

It was part of an apology Steve still wasn't convinced he completely deserved, but he wasn't in the position to refuse favors. "... Thanks." 

They walked into the lobby together, Steve's skin crawling with the oddity of feeling Robin standing with him and not just by him. He was grateful, but there was a voice in his head whispering that it would all end one day, and he would find her claws in his throat. 

He tried not to think about it. Tried not to think about how Dustin barely spoke as Steve drove him home, only to nearly tackle him in a hug before he got out of the car. Tried not to think about how he couldn't pop in to say hi to Mrs. Henderson because she would think– she would know –that he was a monster. Tried not to think much at all, really. 

Steve found himself driving to the cabin on muscle memory alone, and didn't even notice the direction he was driving until the streetlights gave way to the shadowy cradle of the woods. He parked in the grass, climbed the steps stiffly, paused between every movement as Steve ruminated on the effort it took. 

Hopper didn't look up from the stove as Steve came in. It was chili night, a tradition built around one of the few dishes Hopper had achieved consistency in. Maybe that was why Steve had come here– Something in him knew he was expected here. People were waiting for him. He was wanted. 

Steve felt tears well in his eyes. 

"Steve?" Hopper clicked off the gas on the stove, turning. "Did… did work go okay?" 

The dam broke. Everything came pouring out, the tears, the half-explanations Robin had given him, the terrible truths he now was sure of. Everything poured out of Steve at once, until he was sitting on the couch, gasping for air. Hopper watched him through all of it, never saying a word. His face gave nothing away, and that only made it worse– Steve kept talking and talking, trying to find the words that would make Hopper feel something. Anything. 

Eventually, the terror took over his brain and he fell silent, but his throat still clenched around unformed words. 

"I've told you before, I'm not afraid of you, kid," Hopper said, slowly, but before Steve could protest, he continued, "but you have a right to be concerned about it, you know, in general. It might be you, it might not. But if there's some kind of Wesen vigilante, after everything that's happened in Hawkins in the past two years, one of them's bound to cause trouble sometime." 

"So we just– We gotta figure out how to take one down," Steve said, his hands shaking. 

"I figure shooting 'em will work just as well as it would on anyone else," Hopper said, dryly, "but I don't think you have to worry about that." 

"No, no, you can–" Steve flushed at the sudden sharpness on Hopper's face. "Look, if I'm actively hurting people, I'm too far gone, anyway. Have Nancy do it. She'll get a kick out of it." 

Hopper rolled his eyes, then sighed, rubbing at his face with one large hand. "And what if it's your parents, Steve?" 

That threw him. Because Steve had considered that his parents were the kind of Grimms Steve was terrified to become, yeah. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Steve had always been anxious around them, for no reason he could really put a name to. They weren't bad parents, exactly, just a little absent. They had never denied him anything, never hit him, never even really yelled. But Steve still flinched every time his father raised a hand to clasp him on the shoulder. Steve still shied away from his mother's gaze. 

Steve had always thought it had something to do with all the repression, the constant striving to live up to the Harrington name. That had been enough of an answer for him. Besides, the older he got, the less he had to deal with it, so what did it even matter? 

The idea that it might be something more sinister still hadn't prepared him for the concept of actually doing something about it, though. Sure, he had proposed the idea of them being dangerous to Dustin, but it wasn't like they were killing people and burying them behind the Hawkins Lab. 

"Do you think they already are?" Steve asked, face twisting. "There were genetic experiments on Wesen in the town they lived in. How did they not–" 

Hopper shrugged. "I don't know for sure, kid. Speaking as a cop, if their thought process is anything like mine, they probably don't pursue leads they consider out of their jurisdiction, and it wasn't like the lab was advertising. Will was the first Hawkins kid to go missing, remember?" 

"They were out of town when he disappeared," Steve said, relief evident. "They didn't get home until he was back." 

"I can't promise you anything, Steve, and you're probably gonna want to have it out with them yourself. But your parents have been in and out of Hawkins for two decades now, and it's not exactly like we've got stacks and stacks of cold case murders rotting away at the station. If they're causing problems, it's not here," Hopper said. 

Steve leaned back against the couch cushions, finally letting himself relax. "We just have to make sure they don't find out about El." 

"There you go," Hopper said, reaching out to slap Steve on the knee. It would have felt condescending from anyone else, but it was the most physical affection that Steve had ever seen Hopper give anyone besides Joyce and El. "Feel better with a task, right?" 

"Yeah, actually," Steve admitted. It did feel good, even though it was a small, vague goal that honestly Steve kinda hoped he never had to worry about. Still, having something clear in his head to strive for made him feel solid, grounded, and he felt like an actual person again for the first time all day. 

If Grimms were as bad as Robin made them out to be, then someone needed to protect Hawkins from them. Steve could be that person, if he needed to be, even if the threat was just his own reflection. 

[Next Chapter]

---

taglist: @i-write-stories-not-sins-bitch

#my fic #only i must wander #grimm au #steddie #i hope its ok im tagging this steddie even tho eddie's not actually in it yet #he's going to be !! they'll kiss eventually and everything!! #rn it's #stobin #time tho :) #i just thought about how long its going to be until steve and eddie kissed and got dizzy see yall complete only ficcers next millennia #this au ate my brain i don't wanna talk about it #i'll try to have pt 3 out next sunday #no promises tho bc wayne shows up and i fucking love writing someone with my accent for once #THIS MAN IS NEVER GONNA SHUT UP #did i assign roles so that i could pretend my uncle is the one infodumping all the exposition and worldbuilding? maybe #i'm allowed

[franeridan]

I was thinking about how hug-y opla luffy is and I realised that if you strictly consider instances in which he meant to hug someone and not just hold them (so take out every single time he's picked up someone and either lugged them around or flung them across a battlefield) in the manga he hasn't actually hugged that many people at all, has he

#off the top of my head i can remember #chopper right after the second round of the davy back fight #chopper flings himself at him and luffy goes through the whole talk with foxy after while hugging him #it's SUPER cute and also I'm pretty sure the first time luffy hugs anyone in the manga after shanks loses an arm for him #ace. we all know when. #sabo! when he finds out he's still alive!!!! #and zoro when they meet back up in wano #not to zolu but that's the only hug luffy starts himsef that doesn't involve copious amounts of tears #he's just extremely happy to see zoro !!!!!! can't blame him I'd be as well #these are genuinely the only times i can remember him hugging someone in the whole 106 volumes of manga? #though i had forgotten about the chopper one until i reread that arc so maybe there's more I'm forgetting #ah allow me to zolu again but isn't that amazing that oda obviously doesn't think about hugs as something luffy would do casually #but still drew luffy fling himself at zoro on sight after a few weeks of separation #ah #AHHH #anyway yes very interesting #you'd assume with that personality luffy would be hugging people more often and yet #that said a lot of people hug luffy while luffy just lets them hang off him and goes about his way #so he IS pretty casual about hugs #he just doesn't start them or partake in them a lot #i had never realized honestly #very very inchresting #coming back to this a trillion years later to add that he hugs von chan in impel down!!!! #extremely important so let's jot that down

[moeblob]

I remember one time on discord someone joined and I posted art in the art channel and she was like “oh you’re a fan of moeblob?” and I’m like. “I... I am moeblob” and then she was just so shocked she met the person behind the rare pairs and asked my opinions on a particular one. I remember a time on twitter someone made a tweet about “why does no one discuss Ferdinand/Felix” and someone replied like “there is a lone artist out there making content for them actually” and @ me.

Can I just retire and be known as the artist who draws everyone with freckles for Engage. It would draw far less attention probably (good! I’m shy!) and honestly is very pleasing to indulge in.

#moe talks a lot #can i have a freckle legacy can i just draw everyone from engage with freckles every time i draw them #can i do that?? is that allowed??? cause so many designs are already so good but what if Freckles..... #also im ngl while the attention for rare pairs has been like 99% positive I'm a little scared to draw ships for engage #i dont know if i wanna go through my rare pair legacy again #looks at my OG son and someone who doesn't have a support chain with him YET talks about him in another support chain #also this is possibly weird??? but like ? i see a unit in engage and immediately go into adoption mode #so as i am playing and stuff they are all my children so it feels a little weird to think of my kids romantically rn #i might move past that eventually but at this point in time i just find them all to be such good kids no matter the age #they are babies your honor and i will protect them

[softquietsteadylove]

Hello love! How are you?

May a i ask for another part of the Addams Fam au pretty please 😄 it's so cutee.

Thank you for all of your stories they are amazing, i adore how you write Thena and Gil, you get them so right every time. 🩷🤍

"What a beautiful day."

"What a beautiful day indeed."

Thena and Gil looked at each other before bursting into laughter, sitting on the steps of the gazebo. The heavy rain underscored it, only Theseus on Thena's lap even blinked. Their parents were inside, discussing business of some kind.

"Father has been talking about this meeting for weeks," Thena looked down at Theseus, running her fingers over his back and up his spines delicately. "He is quite excited about the deal they will be making, supposedly."

"Yeah, Pops has been talking about it too," Gilgamesh agreed in not so many words. He looked at her with a grin, though, "keeps saying it'll be a huge drag."

The two shared a light laugh again, maintaining the 'code' of sorts they had concocted upon their first meeting. Their parents' businesses entangling so often had actually come to benefit them. Finally someone with whom to discuss things that weren't business, or investments, or the benefit of all the plastics piling up in the environment (how that was a good thing was beyond both of them).

"I do like the rain, though," Thena added more quietly. "It's much easier to sleep when it's raining. And Theseus enjoys it as well, from the safety of his sun lamp tank."

Gilgamesh chuckled, extending a finger. The growing iguana was warming up to him slowly. He wasn't of petting familiarity yet, but Theseus flicked his tongue a little in the direction of Gil's finger. "You guys must love monsoon season, huh?"

Thena offered a guilty little pinch of her lips. "The last trip on which we accompanied Father, the weather had been dreadful. Mother didn't get to experience the sea at all, and we were essentially shut in the whole time. I quite enjoyed it."

Gilgamesh threw his head back in laughter. She liked how unrestrained he could be in that way. "I probably would've liked that too. I think we're old enough they don't have to drag us around with them anyway, right?"

Thena sighed, hunching over Theseus as a breeze travelled through her around the gazebo pillars. "I wish they agreed. And yet Mother and Father's leash has only gotten shorter, I fear."

They kept insisting that she and Gilgamesh remain within a certain distance of the house when they were visiting. Something about not getting up to any 'funny business'. Thena didn't understand it; nothing about business was ever humorous.

"Hm," he pursed his lips, sliding closer to her. His larger frame actually did block some of the wind that accompanied such lovely rain.

"Have your parents always-" Thena started asking and then stopped dead in her tracks. She was becoming too comfortable with Gilgamesh--comfortable enough to ask rather forward questions. It was untoward, with a guest.

Gilgamesh leaned closer to her, softening his already soft voice, "go on."

Thena's eyes darted between him and Theseus. He was awfully close, now. "Have your parents always been suffocating--like mine?"

"I guess kinda the opposite," Gilgamesh shrugged, now close enough to venture into the realm of touching Theseus' back. The lizard allowed it, his eyes sliding closed as he enjoyed the attention. "Pops used to show me his model trains all the time, teach me about the railroads, all that stuff. Then, one day, he never had any time for me anymore. Now I seem to just be a distraction for him, and Ma."

Thena frowned. Perhaps she did know that feeling. Mother no longer brushed and braided her hair. Father had long ago said that she needed no tutelage in fencing. She recalled a younger Thena even falsifying her own flaws in hopes her father would continue to teach her, but to no avail.

"Hey," he nudged her arm gently. Their parents never let them be too close to each other in their presence, but she had to admit that being close to him had its advantages. "That's why we have each other, right?"

She smiled, completely unwittingly, too. He seemed able to pull a smile from her more and more easily. Unfortunately, her parents were catching on. Every time she smiled at Gil from across the dinner table her mother would nudge her foot to mind herself.

"I'm not as involved in my dad's business," Gilgamesh shrugged, pulling his hand away from Theseus and resting his elbows against his knees. "But your dad still drags you to meetings sometimes, right? Like when my folks first came over?"

Thena merely nodded. "Any time an associate has a son, he asks me to accompany him. I believe he thinks it will be seen as an asset--something to further convince them to agree to his conditions."

She was his perfect little bargaining chip.

"That's gross."

Thena smiled again, although it wasn't quite as free as his. "I suppose it is."

"It must be tough," he sighed and rested his chin in his palm. She tilted her head at him and he grinned at her, "being so pretty."

Thena's jaw clapped shut, too loudly for the rain to cover it. She tried to formulate a response but she couldn't, and Gilgamesh was still looking at her. She turned reticent, utterly embarrassed by such a bold compliment at such close range. Her whole face felt warm. "Hm."

He chuckled, but he didn't say anything else, nor did he prod her after that pitiful excuse for a 'thank you'.

Thena stared down at Theseus, trying and trying to think of something to say. Her flustered energy awoke the reptile, who looked up at her. It did not help her feel more calm.

"Pops doesn't ask me to come to meetings anymore--not even here."

Thena blinked at the sudden admission. She had assumed Gilgamesh joined his parents for their continued meetings with her own because they had insisted so. As far as she knew, Gilgamesh would take over and inherit his father's businesses someday. "He doesn't?"

He grinned at her again, and that funny feeling arose inside her ribs. "I keep asking to come. Hanging out with you here is the only fun thing I ever get to do anymore."

Thena still didn't mange to squeak out a decent reply. But she had to agree. She looked forward to Gilgamesh coming over. She even included in her letters to him what she had overheard Father discussing so as to better encourage Mister Lee to come over again. She would lie awake the night before, be restless all the morning before they arrived.

Gilgamesh left it at that again, but he did pick his head up from his palm as she scooted a little closer to him, until their sides could brush, his stark black suit against her soft white cardigan.

"The same could be said for me," she managed to admit, in far too many words than needed. But 'I like you too' seemed both too simple and...too complicated. But he seemed to accept it, letting her settle next to him in a positively scandalous proximity. But he was much warmer than the chilly rain air.

"You could try and get your dad to come over to our place," Gilgamesh suggested. His face was close again, by sheer proximity of how they were sitting. But she didn't mind it as much. "You can come with him, I can show you around. I'm pretty sure my folks wouldn't really care what we get up to."

Thena fidgeted to admit to him, "I've never been allowed to leave the manor without the presence of Father, or Mother."

Gil shrugged though, and his massive shoulder collided with her smaller one. "They'll be there--kinda. And I'll be a perfect gentleman."

She smiled as he held up a hand for her to rest hers within. It was familiar, even comfortable. "Of that, I have no doubt."

"Great," he whispered, running his thumb over her fingers. "So, next time your dad mentions my dad, tell him that Pops has...documents--or something. His office is full of train stuff. He has maps of every railroad on the continent, I'm pretty sure."

She did know their deal had...something to do with the railroads. She had looked into at first. But since she was able to spend time with Gilgamesh instead of listen to the business dealings, her attention had dwindled, to put it mildly.

Thena tightened her hand in his, and he returned the gentle squeeze. His hand felt nice. "I shall tell him forthwith."

"Well maybe we can enjoy the rain in Ma's sunroom next time, then," he chuckled. He went to drop his hand, and hers, but he blinked as she held on. She thought about snapping her hand back in that second, but he adjusted his grip, still holding her hand perched in his even in his more relaxed posture.

"That sounds," Thena sighed, letting herself lean against him just a little more, "dreadful."

He laughed again, jostling her amidst her relaxing. But she excused it, only because she liked his laugh so much.

#Thenamesh Addams Family AU #I'm so glad you asked for more of this sweetheart! #so thank you! #I really do love the addams family #Gil and Thena get along like a house on fire! #Thena doesn't really realise it yet #because she's never been allowed to have friends before #at least not like him #she does eagerly await their next visit #she writes him letters #because of course they write with quills #Gil uses a typewriter at least #and then uses their family raven to deliver her letters #and Gil is like you don't even use the mail??? you guys are hardcore #And Thena keeps saying oh Mister Lee said this Mister Lee said that...so Gilgamesh says #her mother isn't sure about this friendship of theirs #she's like a boy and a girl writing each other? scandalous #Thena don't sit in the same room as that boy with the door closed #meanwhile Gil is already so in love with her #he adores this girl who looks like a ghost and talks like Shakespeare #he tells her she's pretty #because she is #and Thena is like ..........im wHAT #then that night she asks Theseus for advice #Theseus: 🦎

[bylertruther]

imagine being will and getting stalked on your way home one night which leads to you finding yourself in a hell dimension that you are then hunted, starved, and died in, only to eventually be revived and brought back home. but... you're not really home, because whatever died within you left a space in you that the king of hell has made it his mission to fill.

you keep finding yourself back in hell any time you're alone, but you're not really alone because he's always in your shadow just on the other side, calling you back to him. you know of the evil he plans to do and while you don't know your place in all of this you do know that he allegedly doesn't want to hurt you. and yet... he still does. you run, you stand your ground, and you scream at him to go away, but it isn't enough and he doesn't. he's within you now, having infected your each and every cell until there is nothing within you that is truly yours. not your thoughts, not your body, nothing. he's controlling you and pushing you out of your own mind and body until its all his to do with as he pleases.

the people who love you most eventually get him out of you, but it's no use. he's still there, having melded himself to you somewhere beyond what the eye can see, but that you can still feel. he's in your very center, in the place where only you should reside. everyone else gets to be who they are, but not you. not anymore.

ever since you came back, even before he used a shadow monster to physically enter you, you've been willandhenry, not will. he can no longer move you, sure, but it's still just like before: you feel what he feels as he feels it, as if you're one. his pain, his rage, and his undying, steadfast ambition—all of it, everything, completely and entirely awful and grotesque as it is, lives and beats within you as it does him. him: a living, breathing, and all-powerful intrusive thought made reality and that you cannot will away no matter what you and everyone you love does.

like. Literally Okay . will byers aka strongest person ever because i would've clocked out five minutes into this unending nightmare. tfw the horrors are not just around you but especially loud and unrelenting within you + are you still happening there inside your body + am i a man still or is this what it means to be a monster + i want to go back to before there was a before and after, i want to be me again, i want to be a boy and not know the things that i know + feeling like a mistake because everyone gets to move on but you because you're always the outlier you're always the anomaly in everything no matter what i just. Okay . literally okay!!!!!

#big wall of text not sorry and also not rereading u get what u get and u don't get upset <3 #the horrors are literally unending #i'm a 'time stopped in the upside down because will has never been able to move on from that night' truther #which is why they used 'coming of age' as one of the descriptions for his s5 arc and harp on his connection with the UD + time stop #and why they've always talked about him being nostalgic n him wanting to go back to old times #'joyce says time is funny like that: emotions can make it speed up or slow down' like cmonnnnnnnnn CMONNNNNN #time stopped because will hasn't been able to move on and he won't be able to until henry is dead dead dead!!!!! #until the cycle breaks until the gate is deadlocked and melded shut never to be open again!!!! #until he is allowed to have ownership of his body again!!! until he can be just will!!!!!! #and also other freaky deaky stuff tht we have yet to learn but like . u kno #mine #will

[essektheylyss]

Is there any Essek scene in particular you’re hoping is included in the show?

Oh man oh god oh fuck. This list could go on SO long.

To be fair, the thing with Essek is that there are a lot of very small and fun but not narratively load-bearing scenes, and then a few major scenes that have a decent amount of narrative weight to them. For instance, the first study scene (the second is important but could be combined into it if that the pace required it), the Scourger incident, the dinner, and most of episode 97 have a lot of narrative impact, either for Caleb's arc or for the plot as a whole. I've already suggested I need to see the ninth floor tower conversation animated like a fish needs water to breathe, and I'd love both the times Essek physically pulls Caleb out of danger, of course.

There's also a lot of wiggle room in how you pace the Nein and break up their arcs (which I think was more rigid translating campaign 1 to LoVM—even when arcs are shifted around, the sequences of events are kept somewhat orderly) which means that speculation is pretty hard, particularly when it comes to Essek, who meets the Nein so far into the campaign. Basically, any of these things might not be as narratively necessary by then, depending on what they choose to cut or focus in on. I could speculate on that, and I'm sure I will extensively, but at a certain point I might as well just write a series worth of scripts as a fun side project.

That being said, I do really hope the Scourger scene remains, because it is so cinematically interesting, and I do consider it a major turning point between the wizards, regardless of either of them realizing it at the time or not.

And I also really want to watch him have a panic attack over whiskey cocoa. It is in no way load-bearing, but nonetheless, I would like to see it, and I think I deserve it.

#there IS actually something to be said about the narrative weight of essek having a panic attack while guzzling spiked hot cocoa but #I've talked about that elsewhere #this is for vibes lmao #thank you for the ask! it also reminded me I did get an ask about tone the other day and have not had a chance to answer yet #thank you to everyone who has taken my bait and allowed me to chatter about my boi this series and adaptation literally my fave topics #mighty nein animated #essek thelyss #oh boy I am tempting myself with the concept of just sitting down and writing a series worth of scripts for lulz. #I have done it before and I should Not do it again but boyyyyy do I kinda wanna #tbt the time my professor told me my thesis project was pointless cuz I couldn't use it as a writing sample. I'm still just. #excuse me ma'am. LOVE HER. great screenwriter. but oh my god what if I just want to PRACTICE. hello. #I did in fact write 600 pages of script out of spite cuz of that. so yanno. again. I could fully do this just for kicks.

[angrybatart]

The slightly overwhelming desire to try and draw Doomguy (Doom Slayer, if you wanna be that way) for the first time EVER. Despite the fact that this man haunted my childhood with his nasty-ass bloodied face when his health was low. That's right...Doomguy scared me as a kid. NOT THE DEMONS. (Does that make me Hellspawn? J/k)

#not art #Doom #Doomguy #Doom Slayer #I'm talking CLASSIC Doomguy btw #Nothing scared me more than seeing that man get bloodied up #from a failed fist-fight attempt with a Pinky or Cacodemon #and yet it's one of my favorite games to this day #I wasn't allowed to play it when I was 4 or 5 years old #HECK I didn't get to actually play until about a year or so ago #But it's the haircut that's got me worried #I can easily do long hair styles #Short cuts take multiple doodles until I get it right #and sometimes it still feels off

[yashley]

“I’m really sorry.” “So am I.”

#critical role #imogen x fearne #imogearne #long post #ygifs #but they were literally insane for this are you kidding me #you have Laura Lauraing up a Laura with that imogen emotion work she's pulling and then you have Ashley Ashleying up an Ashley At Her WHAT #like I JUST WANT THEM TO TALK ABOUT IT I JUST WANT AN ACTUAL TALK SHOW TO TALK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #WHATS GOING ON THERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #YOU LITERALLY have Imogen People-Pleaser-Or-Death actually saying So Am I and Actually Acknowledging In EVEN That Small Way #And it's like fearne is Actually So Heartbroken she's Stunned And Yet All She Can Think To Do Is Look At Imogen and Say She’s So Sorry #FEARNE???? we literally did not see THAT magnitude of emotional vulnerability with fearne since she Met Her Lost Mom Ok #and she’s There At The Mercy Of Her Emotions. because of imogen. because of how much she Empathizes with Imogen #and Imogen Wonderful Wonderful Imogen Literally Cannot Look At Fearne More ThanA Second After What She Did* #girls y'all are just insane for this this was The Moment that made me Break Down And Uproot my Not Making Gifs Thing after EIGHT YEARS it's #I know this campaign is so fast paced and plot driven but like it's been nearly 10 episodes and they've not Talked About This Okay #also obsessed with the stilted way imogen thanks fcg for bringing fearne back like it is SOO detached I'm chewing it #she literally spoke as if she wasn't there when you could see imogen relating to fearne by touching her shoulder and saying brought Her back #they literally already Went Through Much with fearne's parents reveal and the way imogen Allowed herself to Be Present in That Situation #no but literally I Think About Fearne Combating How She Regrets Orym Being Brought Back like Thats the gravity of it #imogen says Thank You Fearne and fearne just stands there nearly wanting nothing more than for the reality imogen Meant It

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

bestie bestie have you seen the poltergayst art :D? the sillies!!! ive drawn them!!

im thinkin about drawing killer having like just weird or disturbing features, like his jaw hanging barely attached or something cuz he doesn’t understand Skeleton Monster anatomy and i honestly have so many ideas for this au cackles

yes!!! yes i've seen them >:D

i just arrived home so i'm reblogging them all simultaneously but waa these beans are so interesting to daydream about...

Like look at him look at our ghostie killie omggg<33333

#ask #my art #poltergayst au #i'm unwell when it comes to kross and kross aus in general but this? aughghg the fluff potential is immense...... #i do wonder if killer can leave the house? yknow for very valid reasons like dates and stuff >;D #cross is like 'you need some clothes' because he can't go out naked smh look at how bad killer has it in this world 😔</3 #i'm guessing he can't even after getting his physical form? idk but one thing i will say is that he probably like. begs cross to get a cat #even if the apartment has no pets allowed he would find a way to smuggle a kitten like cmon this is killer we're talking about HHH #i want them to watch a movie and have them curl around eachother (killer with his eight limbs or smthing) and just. stay like that forever #waghgh the dream....the goal >:')c <333 #anyways be right back imma reblog the ones i didn't see yet!!! thanks for passing byy and don't think twice about tagging me in any updates #muah muah have a nice day))<3333

[dagbert-endless]

dagbert endless are you on ao3. do you have a current favorite cotrk fic or

I am not. I've thought about signing up but I don't read much fanfic so it never really interested me. Right now I only bother to go on Ao3 to keep up with Charlie Bone & The Crushing Weight Of The Oncoming Future by mossnrocks.

Nothing's stuck out to me as a favorite tbh. There's the Crushing Weight one I just mentioned, the author just started posting it but I'm liking it so far. I'm not a huge fan of Charlie/Dagbert so it's really a testimony that I like it enough to read it anyways lol. You have Asa the gym teacher, you have Charlie experiencing the horrors of being the age where people want you to do something with your life but you're passionless and aimless, you have Dagbert smashing the marble his father's trapped in (killing him instantly) and biking away. Very fun read so far and I'm looking forward to seeing where the story goes.

I also liked Annals of the North by Lingard_and_the_Stars, because even though I joke I really do like seeing opinions on why the curse played out as it did. Short, sweet, and the Oh Shit realization that nobody has to die but the cycle of patricide will continue on!! That the suffering is for nothing!! I love that, like genuinely.

There's also Letters by yunmin, which might actually be the closest to a favorite I have right now. I'm a sap for yearning and I love that bittersweet ending. Loving a ghost that can never come back, that should never come back. Something something the love was there,,,

On the fanfiction.net side of things, there's a few fics I like:

Drowning by lilmisswritergal4eva82719511. TW for suicide. A oneshot that explores what it would be like if Tancred came back wrong. I love the idea of dying affecting Tancred, and this fanfic takes that idea to a whole new level.

Four For A Boy by DancingSpy. A oneshot of Emma mourning Tancred. Short, sweet, and a little sad.

Letters To Emma by VivaLaVida1704. A oneshot about Emma turning 16. Also short, sweet, and a little sad.

Strange One from the Sea by Winter Gunhands. This one has ~two whole chapters~, wowie. It's a funny fic about Dagbert drowning.

I'm aware that most of these are oneshots, but if you want lengthy, time-consuming fics then you should probably be asking another blog lol

I requested an invite to ao3, but I don't think I'll write any fic. I'm humble enough to admit that writing is a skill I never developed. Which is fine for writing cringe shitposts on tumblr, but not so fine for fanfic.

All this aside, if you have recommendations for CotRK fic my askbox is open. I'm not opposed to reading fic, it's just something I forget to do if it's not on tumblr or linked on the Discord lol

#asks #btw I *am* in the server and I'm allowed to share the link if any fans out there aren't in it yet #I very rarely talk there because I'd rather die but it's a good server #everyone's talented at fic & art and the convos about the series are fun to read