#kill em with kindness robin

[rebouks]

Levi: Cool treehouse-.. I guess. Robin: Uh-huh, my dad built it. L: Seriously? R: Yeah. L: My dad doesn’t even know what a hammer is.

Robin snorted in faint amusement, though the mention of Levi’s father made him wish he knew more about his family; it’d probably explain a lot. Maybe he’d find out naturally one day, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

R: What does your dad do? L: I don’t know. R: You must kinda know. L: What’s it to you? R: We’re just talking-.. aren’t we? That’s what friends are supposed to do. L: We’re not friends. R: We could be. L: You don’t mean that. R: Don’t I?

Levi paused as he sidestepped Robin, gauging his sincerity, no doubt-.. but as usual, Robin had no way of explaining his judge of character, nor his steadfast belief that Levi didn’t actually mean him any harm, so he left it at that.

L: How am I supposed to know? R: I guess you don’t-.. it’s not like we have to be friends; I’m just saying we could be. L: My dad’s some sorta business man, I don’t know-.. he can’t be very good though, ‘cause he got demoted or something. R: Oh. L: That’s why we had to move and that’s how I ended up at your crummy school too. We all hate it here-.. happy now? R: Well, it doesn’t sound like a very happy story… L: Whatever.

Previous // Next

[the-priestess-of-dawn]

Grima and Final Blows

The other day I mentioned that I had an essay about Grima to write that I'd been putting off, and between that and all the great essays my fellow Grimleal scholars have been putting out recently, I decided to sit down and finally get it done.

So here you go. An analysis of Grima's difficulties with directly killing people.

Okay, so I’ve been thinking about this for quite some time, because one of my favorite things to explore when it comes to Grima is the gap between their villain act, which they actively play up in front of others in both Awakening and FEH, and their true feelings, which are hinted at in Awakening (particularly through the Future Past DLC) and made even clearer in FEH— their own evil actions are repulsive to them, and they wish they could live normally among humans, but they don’t believe they have any choice but to be the monster that “the fell dragon, Grima” is supposed to be. They are committed to this “fell dragon” character, to putting on a show for everyone, and they are so good at it that it’s easy to overlook that they… uh… aren’t very good at killing anyone important. Not directly, anyway.

Sure, Grima is responsible for numerous deaths. But what is their actual kill count? Well, in Awakening’s main game… zero. (Unless you count Chrom, but, as we witness, that was not a voluntary act on their part; Validar took control of their body. You could also make the argument that Grima “claiming the sacrifice” at the Dragon’s Table counts, but the problem with that is, although it’s obvious that Grima accepts the life force of the Grimleal members as a sacrifice, it’s not at all clear whether or not Grima personally kills them. Although it’s possible that they did off screen, it’s also possible that Validar killed them, or that they were ordered to take their own lives; there’s no reason Grima would have had to lay a hand on them.) In the Future Past, it’s… one, maybe one and half (Naga’s spirit, and Tiki, but only in body. More on this later.)

And it’s not as though Fire Emblem shies away from showing villains directly murdering people, Even in Awakening itself, the intro to Chapter 9 shows Aversa killing a Plegian soldier for delivering an unsatisfactory report, so it wouldn’t have been out of place to let Grima stab a few NPCs as a show of brutality. Especially seeing as Grima is the evil dragon final boss. As early as Mystery of the Emblem, we can see Medeus killing his cleric hostages to restore his own health if you fail to rescue them before trying to defeat him, and as recently as Engage, we get a whole cutscene of Sombron eating Hyacinth. Fantasy violence my beloved <3

Anyway, the point is, Grima could have been written to be much more violent and I don’t think anyone would have complained. Instead, though, Grima repeatedly— and consistently across the series— tries to avoid engaging in direct combat.

Let’s start with what Grima does in the main game of Awakening. We know that Risen pursue Lucina into the past, because we see them fall out of the portal with her in Chapter 1. We also know that those Risen, as well as the others that are appearing throughout the land, are not being directly controlled by Grima, because later in Chapter 13, as the Shepherds are leaving Plegia after meeting with Validar, Aversa, and the Hierophant, they are pursued by more skilled Risen, and Frederick notes that “Either they are learning our ways, or someone is commanding them…” So… It seems that sending the Risen—with or without specific orders—to attack while Grima is not themself present is a favored tactic.

But what about when Grima is present? Take a look at the Endgame: Grima chapter. Yes, you eventually get to engage Grima in direct combat. But not immediately. What Grima does first is…

Grima attacks the Shepherds with dark spikes from a distance, reducing everyone’s hp to 1. Now, here’s what happens next: Grima attempts to possess their past self, Robin hears the voices of their friends and breaks free, Naga heals everyone back to full health, and then the fight against Grima begins… Except actually, the Shepherds have to get to Grima first, because they’re at the top of the map and they’re not budging. Naga warns them that “Grima’s servants will beset [them] to no end.” and she’s not kidding. Grimleal reinforcements will spawn infinitely, and they can hit pretty hard. Even with everyone starting at full health, it’s possible to lose units to these Grimleal soldiers if Grima isn’t defeated quickly. Can you imagine what would happen if Naga hadn’t healed the Shepherds first?

Well, I’d guess that they’d probably all die to the Grimleal without Grima having to face them up close. Which was probably what Grima was going for.

This isn’t the only time Grima tries the dark spikes trick, either. Grima attempts this exact same move in the Future Past 3 when they face Lucina, Severa, Laurent, and Gerome.

Grima announces “With the next blow, I will kill you.” and then demands that they hand over the Fire Emblem as well as the gemstone they hold. The threat is very real. But…

Given that at 1hp, a gust of wind could take the kids out, would it not have been easier and faster to kill them and just loot their bodies immediately? And yet Grima lets the kids have an extended discussion about sacrifice, and even suggests that Lucina would indeed buy a little more time by running… Again, I cannot stress enough that Grima should be able to finish them off in one hit at this point.

So the plan was almost certainly to back off and let the Risen do the actual killing, even though that would be a lot less efficient under the circumstances. And when Chrom and the Shepherds arrive, Grima immediately turns their attention to them, saying “If it’s a reunion you seek, my soldiers shall welcome you on my behalf.” Then they once again pick a spot at the back of the map and refuse to move from it, forcing the Shepherds to fight through the Risen in order to engage Grima in combat at all.

And sure, Grima has some excuses. “I was hoping not to have to flex any muscle,” they say right before the dark spikes attack, as if to justify why they didn’t do it sooner. And of course they taunt Lucina over having to choose to whether to run as her friends sacrifice themselves for her or to stay and fight and die with them. “I must say I shall enjoy this either way!” Yes, Grima, we get it, you’ve made it very clear that you’re an arrogant asshole.

But is arrogance really all there is to it? If we look at what Tiki tells Grima in the good ending of the Future Past, it looks as though Grima’s arrogance has brought their own downfall. “If you had left Mount Prism alone, Grima, you might have stood a chance. Instead, you have brought the Awakening right to your feet.” However, when you think about it… Is Tiki’s continued existence not in itself a result of Grima’s repeated pattern of not really wanting to land a finishing blow? The game states that Grima did in fact kill Tiki… but only in body, not in spirit. This is, according to Tiki, because Robin intervened.

Now, the question I have is… Is it really possible that Robin could have intervened both against Grima’s will and without them having any idea? Honestly, it’s hard to tell exactly how aware Grima is of Robin’s resistance, because they lie about it a lot, e.g. stating that Robin’s spirit perished in sending Chrom back to his own world, even though just moments later, Robin is once again overpowering them. So, keeping in mind that Grima is a liar, was Grima really arrogant to leave Tiki’s body in Ylisstol, and to not make sure that her spirit was fully destroyed? Or was Robin simply able to capitalize on Grima’s propensity towards backing off?

Because surely the only way Grima could be unaware that Robin had acted against them is if Robin hadn’t actually acted against them. I don’t think I believe that Grima really wanted Tiki gone. Naga, sure—longtime nemesis and all. But if Grima had truly cared about seeing Tiki’s existence destroyed… Well, I doubt Robin could have interfered that much.

But maybe it could still be a matter of arrogance. Maybe Grima just didn’t think Tiki’s spirit could do anything with Naga’s spirit gone, and thus didn't care to pay attention to her anymore once she seemed dead enough.

If that’s true, it doesn’t explain why Shadows of Valentia Grima exhibits the exact same habits when fighting Alm and Celica, despite never having been outside of the Thabes Labyrinth at this point in their life. As opposed to the various Terrors throughout the rest of the Labyrinth, which chase Alm (or Celica) down in the overworld to force a fight, Grima is immobile in their room, and will wait patiently there indefinitely until the player chooses to engage. You can even evacuate from the dungeon.

But if you do choose to fight Grima, it proceeds much like the battles against them in Awakening go. The main difference is that they actually will move from their starting position this time, if you position someone in their range. That still requires a fight against (proto-)Risen who are spawning in from the sides to stop your party’s advance.

So… Now it’s starting to look like Grima actively prefers this one particular trick… And it’s a fundamentally defensive maneuver, which makes perfect sense from SoV Grima’s standpoint (they were attacked out of nowhere, after all), but is not really an obvious standout strategy for Awakening Grima, whose taunts and threats suggest an aggression that would be better supported with a more offensive strategy… Consider, too, that Awakening Grima is in fact being even more defensive than their SoV iteration, since they don’t move towards you at all.

With all that in mind, it really, really looks like Grima doesn’t want to fight, especially in Awakening. Not that they don’t intend for the Shepherds to die—on the contrary, they’ve set everything up so that the Shepherds will eventually be overwhelmed—but that they don’t want to land the killing blow.

(And gee, I wonder what might be fueling their reluctance? Being controlled and made to kill your best friend by your own hand wouldn't be totally traumatic or anything, right?)

And then... Funny thing here, I’ve been procrastinating writing this essay for a long time. I originally started thinking about it shortly before the Depths of Despair banner was released in FEH, so imagine my surprise when I saw this characterization hold up in the writing of Fell Exalt Chrom’s Forging Bonds as well… The Grima there says that Chrom was the one to kill the rest of the Shepherds. Now, it’s pretty clear that it was through Grima controlling him, but that’s not the point. The point is that once again, Grima didn't have to do any direct killing.

Look, if it had only ever happened once, I could buy that maybe Grima was just underestimating their opponents, that maybe they thought they could get away without having to put very much work in. But for Grima to operate this way so many times, so consistently, and to their own detriment? No...

Grima doesn’t like direct combat. Grima has trouble even when it’s a fight they asked for.

And when you think about it, that makes their reaction to Robin choosing to land the final blow themself in the sacrifice ending all the more understandable.

“…YOU WOULD… NOT DARE!”

Because Grima would not dare. Grima has always preferred to let someone else land the final blow.

[bonniesfamiliar]

Everything you said about the robins is wrong. Tim became Robin because dick encouraged him too because he was so angry at Bruce about Jason. There is no “angry Robin” they were all happy and quippy in the suit.

I respect your opinion but I have my own opinion on the robins so have a nice day!

[shopcat]

as someone who has definitely taken a large step back from the entire fanbase in general in hindsight now the way random people act when they're hating ronance is so fucking insane can you please get a fucking grip why are we doing femslash wars they are all such actual children 😭 it is the most harmless f/f ship on earth there are annoying people who like ANYTHING you don't have to be cunt of the year about it like it's literally not serious

[spacedace]

Got inspired by the below tiktok and the idea of the Rogues killing the Joker in revenge for Jason instead of Bruce and had to write about it.

Here, have probably way too many words (with more to come most likely, this really won't leave me alone) of the Rogue's feelings about Jason's death at the Joker's hands and everything that followed.

(also I know the timeline is a bit screwy, shhh just go with it, we're going on vibes with this one lol)

-

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart.

A kid could slit your throat as easy as a man grown in a place like their fine city, maybe easier even for those who still fell for the ideal of children being incapable of anything but innocence and sweetness. Children learned from the world around them though, they learned from the savagery that filled their world, the hard scrabble desperate attempts to survive. They learned what dark corners to avoid, which ones were safer to skitter down.

It didn’t mean there weren’t still some rules of decency to be honored though.

Most folks, even those in the circle of the Rogues, largely left kids out of the equation. Crossfire happened of course, hitting busy city centers always meant some kind of collateral. But there wasn’t much that they got out of purposefully hurting kids outside a black mark on their name in most levels of the grungy underbelly of the city and one hell of a big target on their back. Both from the Bat and those criminals in the dark with them that took offense to those kinds of things. They were crooks, but with few exceptions they weren’t complete monsters.

Robin had always held an interesting place in their grungy little ecosystem. Anything to do with the Bat was generally ruled as gloves-off, do what you do without hesitation. And Robin - both of ‘em - had no problem hitting hard and being ruthless. The first one in particular had a feral sort of rage to him that was a terrifying thing to be on the business end of.

But they were still kids.

Defending yourself from any kid swinging on you was fair game, a person had the right to defend themselves. Grabbing up Robin to hold hostage or bait Gotham’s local cryptid, that was all fine and dandy. You could even get away with roughing the kid up a little here and there, so long as you made sure not to go too far and always kept hits to where the kid’s armor was the thickest. No hard and fast written rules, mind, but general rules of thumbs. Lines indistinct due to the shaky ground a child dancing through the night as a vigilante left all of them on, but ones clear enough that you knew when you were at risk of going too far.

Besides, the Robins were good kids. Fucking feral little shits, of course, able to leave you bleeding just as easy from a kick as they were a sharp word. But good kids. Even most the Rogues in the Gallery liked em. It was hard not to be at least a little fond of a gutsy little punk like that.

Though they were all maybe a tad less nervous around Robin II than they were the original.

Robin I had a lot of anger burning in him, a lot of anger in him, but he was still a cheerful boy with a bright attitude that was refreshing in a world so bleak and dark as the one they all lived in. It was up in the air which was scarier about the kid: The smiled he gave when he was about to give a hands on demonstration about how much force a tiny ten year old could put into a kick when they had half a dozen spins shoved into a flip to wind up to 80 miles an hour, or the flash of his teeth when he was demonstrating the knife sharp brilliance of his belief that Batman was only as frightening as Robin was hopeful.

They weren’t sure if he realized that sometimes they felt a helluva lot more hope at the sight of the Bat when the little bird was putting the hurt on them, or if he’d simply folded that fact neatly into his core philosophy without issue.

Robin II on the other hand had this kind of quiet shyness to him - even as he was shouting the most inventive swears ever heard by human ear at someone while he kicked them in the balls hard enough to make ‘em see not just the face of their own god but a few dozen besides. He was just as unhinged as the Robin before him - seemed to be a requirement for the job really - but there was a distinct different in how the two birds flitted about the darkened skyline of the city. Where the first Robin’s smile was as much danger as it was dazzle, a fanged declaration of victory against the dark, Robin II’s was a sunny, stubborn declaration of perseverance. Kid was sassy and smart, and never - ever - flinched away from extending a hand to those he thought in need of it.

Even if the folks he offered that hand to were in the middle of an attack on some fancy Gala or Wayne Enterprises or whatever target of the week it was. Even knowing the offered hand was likely to be slapped away and followed by a right hook. Kid still always tried.

They all knew why.

The Bat was big on offering chances, on rehabilitation rather than damnation. Some of Robin II being the way he was came from the broody cryptid he followed around. But Batman couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for Robin II being the way he was, couldn’t even pretend to be the cause of most of it. Nah, they knew why the little bird was the way he was.

That unmistakable thick accent. That frame that was always a little too thin even as he got older and stronger. That unshakable, headstrong spirit.

Robin II was an Alley Kid.

A true child of Gotham.

Her polluted waters in his veins. Her smoggy air in his lungs. Her shadows clinging to his edges less like a beast looking to swallow a small bird up and more like a protective mother hiding her hatchling. He understood the world most of them came from. The one they all lived in. Knew it in a way anyone who hadn’t been swallowed up by the dark never really could.

Everyone had their favorite, but even those that claimed the first Robin as theirs couldn’t deny that Robin II was someone to be respected. Nor could they deny a fondness for the chain smoking, classic lit referencing, perpetually baby-faced little shit. They’d all had knock out drag out fights with the kid and knew how fucking unhinged the puny motherfucker could be in a fight, but he always tempered it with offers of resources, of a listening ear, of understanding.

He visited them after they’d been arrested sometimes. In Arkham, or Blackgate or wherever else they’d been locked up in after being stopped by the Dynamic Duo. The little bird would make the rounds whenever he had a broken wing or was stuck waiting as the Bat interrogated someone else or for any other reason he wasn’t out flitting about the city skyline at night. He’d bring cookies or snacks and even cigarettes from his own secret stash on the rare occasion, mask unable to hide the furtive glances around to check for the living shadow that was the disapproving Bat.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

But childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

Bad things happened to good kids all the time.

And some of the monsters that lurked in the city’s darkest shadows took the black mark of a kid killer as a point of pride.

Robin II disappeared one day. Just after that piece of shit Garzonas took the fast way down from the top of a tall building. There were a lot of Rogues with doctoral degrees to their names but even those Goons that dropped out of school before they learned to spell their own names could do that math.

The big bad Bat had benched the boy after the fierce little bird had done what any decent member of the criminal underbelly would have. There were those that thought maybe it’d been an accident, that the kid was pulled off duty because of being too upset at unintentionally crossing the heavy line the Bat drew in the sand. Those voices were drowned out pretty quick though.

Sure, Robin II was all about second chances, of doing better, of redemption. But Garzonas had chances to spare and only ever spat in the face of those offering them. Doubled down on being a monster in a way very, very few of the Rogues Gallery would. The kid was a sweetheart, but he wasn’t no push over and there were some things so heinous that there was only one way of handling them. Crime Alley had its own kind of justice system, and when faced with a monster that was beyond even Batman’s jurisdiction, Robin II did what he always did: fell back on his roots.

Or so the rumors said, at least.

That was the thing about Gotham’s seedy underbelly. It was a grimy, wretched nest of vipers and cut-throats, but it was also worse than any beauty parlor when it came to gossip. No one actually knew anything other than that piece of shit motherfucker took a dive while Robin was chasing him and that he’d not been seen on the streets since. But most had a fondness for the kid, and a distaste for the kind of cruelty Garzonas reveled in and there was no proof that Robin hadn’t gone and done the world a favor by drop kicking that barbaric sack of shit off a roof. So as far as most in the Gallery were concerned, the little bird had stepped up and been a hero.

Time passed. Not a lot. But enough. The Bat disappeared too, popping up on an entire other continent in a way that was awfully tempting. Even with other Masks playing baby sitter while the local cryptid was away. Rogues were scrambling to set plans in motion, Goons getting hired en masse, weapons and weird chemicals getting delivered to shady places across Gotham by the truck-full. The criminal underbelly was abuzz with the same excited energy of children the day before a big birthday party.

And then the news came in.

There were people in the dark who made their living finding things out. Knowing things that no one else did or could. Some even specialized, keeping tabs on Batman and Robin better than anyone else in the business were able. And when the information they found wasn’t anything handy to have tucked into a back pocket or a secret they were paid extremely well to keep? They held on to with the same tenacity a sieve clung to water.

Robin II had run off across the globe and ended up in Ethiopia. Something to do with a doctor doing aid work, the same something that had the Bat end up there was the assumption. Kid ran off to handle things himself or was sent on a separate path on purpose for some plan or other the Bat had cooked up on his hunt.

Whatever the reason, the kid crossed paths with the Clown.

Alone.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham. The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart. But Robin II was hers, the child of her heart, an exception to the rule. And besides, most folks - even those in the Rogues Gallery - largely left the purposeful harm of kids out of the equation.

The Joker wasn’t most folks.

And the little bird was a long way away from the protective shadows of his mother city.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

When the news broke, it broke most of them right along with it.

Plans stalled. Schemes ended. Gotham, for an unnervingly quiet stretch of time that neither its civilians or the world at large understood, went still. Crime continued, of course, but the big names weren’t seen. It was only right, by the standards of those that lived their lives in the dark, that they hold off and give the man that fought them all so relentlessly over the past years the time he needed to focus on hunting down the monster that killed his son. He didn’t need the distraction, and they all owed it to Robin II not to interfere while the Bat at last put a final end to the Clown.

And the hellish cryptid would need his full focus on this one. The Joker wasn’t one to take lightly at the best of times, but he’d set himself up neatly in the middle of a nasty bear trap. Ugly and complicated in the way everything with the Clown was. Interference from the CIA, from the UN, from Superman.

Shit went down. People heard about the Bat and the Clown throwing down in a helicopter plummeting from the sky in one hell of a water landing. Big Blue fished Batman out of the drink before he could drown but there’d been no sign of the Joker.

But the Bat would find him.

They all knew the relentless bastard would find him. It was just a matter of time. With the hellish drive of a demon straight from Gotham’s darkest shadows, the Bat would track the grinning, child killing ghoul down and make right the terrible wrong the evil motherfucker had done. Batman would hunt him to the ends of the earth and enact the justice he held up so fiercely. Robin II would have the vengeance the kid so rightly deserved.

It was just a matter of time. So they waited. And waited.

Days.

Weeks.

Months.

The Clown still lived.

The world, impossibly, began to move on. The Bat returned to his lurking in the night, picking off gangs and petty crooks and no-name gangsters as if nothing had happened at all. More vicious, more savage, but failing to turn that rise in brutality into the killing blow against the one figure that so rightly deserved it.

No one knew what was happening. There were rumors and theories, as there always were in the underground. Some thought that it wasn’t the Bat at all back in Gotham but someone else pretending for awhile, looking after his neglected city while he continued his pursuit of the Joker. Other held that it was the Bat but the whole thing was a ploy to draw the Clown out into the open. A pretense at not caring meant to get under the Clown’s skin, make the asshole mad enough to get stupid and sloppy and reveal himself.

That the man simply had given up was beyond comprehension. Beyond what any upstanding Rogue could accept. So it simply couldn’t be true. There was a trick being played. Some brilliant game of 4D chess that none of them had been able to parse out. It’d be revealed in time, and they see the brilliant trap that had been set. The Clown would be lured out, the Bat would put him down for good, and then they’d all at last raise a glass to the little bird that had been shot down far too soon and smoke shitty cigarettes and quote literary masters and mourn the loss one of Gotham’s own true children.

They just had to play along. Stumbling forward back into their usual habits, pretending that it was a choice and not the world just forcibly dragging them along. It’d make sense, eventually. The Bat had a plan. Robin II wasn’t forgotten, his killer not left free to roam and ravage unpunished for what he’d done.

And then one day there was a new bird flitting across the rooftops.

Chasing the Bat’s looming frame like a reverse shadow. Bright flashes of color in contrast to the bleak darkness of Gotham’s grimy nights. Small and thin and young.

Not the first Robin. With his showman bright grin and bloody rage and unwavering belief in the terrifying power of hope. Not the brilliant, vicious little boy that they’d seen grow over the years into the fierce and fearless Nightwing.

Not Robin II either.

Not Gotham’s soft hearted little bruiser with his unshakable belief that people could be better if given the chance, shinning so bright in the dark as he held out a hand that even the Rogues had no choice but to believe right along with him sometimes. Not the tough little songbird they’d never get to see grow up. Unavenged and unhonored. Put in a box and buried in the ground with a name none of them would ever know carved into a stone they’d never be able to visit.

No.

It was a new Robin.

A new child with the R emblazoned upon his chest.

Sharp and quick and young in the way the birds always were when they started flying at the Bat’s side. Every inch of the boy’s tiny frame a tragedy and an insult. One very, very few of Gotham’s vicious underbelly were willing to tolerate.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham, but there was a damn big difference between holding something sacred and not giving a damn about it at all. There were rules unspoken but understood, a way things were done. Nothing so solid or concrete as a code of conduct, more a collection of time honored traditions. Blood for blood was among the oldest and truest, and the more precious the person taken the more vital and vicious payment was to be made in kind.

The Clown had killed Robin II.

Beaten the kid half to death and then finished the job with a bomb.

Everyone knew he’d done it laughing all the way.

The Bat should have done the same in kind. Done worse. It was justice, it was what was right. You kill a kid you’re marked forever. You kill one so well liked and kill ‘em like that and you’re destined for a cruel and cold death. The Bat had first dibs. It was his kid. It was his right to put an end to that awful laughter and let his son have peace at last.

But he never did.

Nightwing had. For a bit. For a moment.

Robin I, who half the time had scared them all more than the Bat ever could. Dazzling and dizzying and dangerous. Gave back the pain and hurt the Clown had forced upon him with clenched fists and bone shattering hits. They were glad for him, that he was able to beat the monster who had taken his little brother from him to death, that he was able to have such justice.

And then the Bat stepped in.

Revived the fucking Clown.

A slap in the face. The snapping crack of a spine beneath one straw too many. The final, unforgivable insult the man had dared visit upon not just the child taken from him but the entirety of Gotham.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. Respected their ferocity, admired their moxie, marveled at their ability to keep shining in the dark like they did. Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of the city’s dirty criminal underbelly from time to time.

He was a good kid.

He deserved better.

Better than the silence and peace he should be granted in death to be marred by the mad cackles of his killer still running around alive and unpunished. Better than his father giving up, returning to the same old routine as if nothing had happened at all. Better than the Bat snatching up a new bird less than a year later.

Gotham and her Rogues had given the Bat time enough to do what needed to be done.

It was their turn.

[celaenaeiln]

Robin Dick Grayson Characterization

I'm not sure how or where this started but there's been a rampant misunderstanding of Dick Grayson as Robin.

For some reason there have been posts upon posts that dick was some kind of angry robin and I don't know where this is coming from because in every single comic Dick is said to be the happy one. It seems to be a Covid craze because such defamation was not even in existance before 2020. Every one of the comics - Justice League, Batman, Detective Comics, Nightwing Comics, Jason's comics, Tim's comics, all of them! Talk about Dick being the happiest of the robins.

Some people say that he wanted to avenge his parents death by killing Tony Zucco. However Dick could never do that. John and Mary raised their son better than that.

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight Issue #100

Where do you see a raging blood-soaked boy fanon makes him out to be?

The biggest supporter of happy Dick comes from Alfred so if you're going around claiming Dick was angry, you're literally spitting on his grave because Alfred ADORED Dick. He thought of Dick as the sole reason for Bruce's happiness which made him love Dick even more.

Alfred is Dick's biggest advocator. When Bruce is hesitant in his initial days of Robin - Alfred says

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000

"They will be easier than they ever were for you."

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000

"He will see excitement and adventure...and he will help you see it, too."

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000

"He's gotten a taste for it, Master Bruce. He has the natural skill and talent. Do you really think you could stop him at this point?"

"He could make you better. He could BE better."

"A hero forged in the LIGHT."

And Dick feels this too.

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000

"Then WE help them find the better path. Together."

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000

"Let's show them how to do it right."

Calling Dick an angry robin - that's an insult to Dick, Bruce, and Alfred. It's an insult to who they are as characters and it's an insult to the very creation of robin.

Dick wasn't made for vengeance. He was made for the light.

Dick is the embodiment of hope and a brighter future. He's what people look forward to on their darkest days, their shining light. He's the hero of all heroes that came after him. There is no one like him.

There are tons of comics on Dick's journey as Robin but here's a clear one as to his thoughts before he became Robin.

Robin & Batman Issue #3

Dick wasn't angry. He's was sad, lonely, and scared.

But.

This good boy doesn't deserve what you call him. This small loving child. Don't you dare push your evil agenda onto him.

"I don't need to be the next batman. I can be something else. Something better."

"And you know the best part?"

"Now I know I don't need to be alone. And I don't have to be the dark."

"I can be the light."

"I can be Robin."

Batman (1940) Issue #687

Dick was an excitable, brilliant, and over-excelling child. He was a ball of sunshine and happiness who loved laughing, playing games, and being crazy. He was a hypercompetent, crazy child who lived for the love of living and adventure.

It's the loss of the original dynamic duo that Alfred grieves over.

Batman (1940) Issue #687

Just look at this adorable baby!!!

Batman/Superman (2019) Issue #16

"Hey, Batman! You took down one of 'em and I took down three! I told ya I've been practicing!"

"Good work, Robin."

What the heck you cute adorable baby.

"Holy--! Is this a warden's office of a museum of horrors? Look at that old rocket ship!"

"Ew. There's a skeleton inside!"

LOOK AT THAT BABY FACE!! THE PURE ENTHUSIAM IN THE WAY HE TALKS - HE'S JUST A HAPPY BABY BOY!!

Batman/Superman (2019) Issue #17

IT'S A CRIME TO CALL HIM ANGRY.

Love this sweet, adorable child.

Another issue with the “Dick Grayson was an angry Robin” take. It’s not just a different perspective, it’s just blatantly wrong.

How wrong?

In order to fight the Batman who laughs, Bruce creates a machine that will emulate the joy of the happiest person he has ever known-who?

Robin Dick Grayson.

"Happiness is seeing the world though the eyes of children."

The Batman Who Laughs Issue #4

"Dick was the first robin. He had the happiest eyes. Circus eyes. Weightless - leaping, never falling."

Bruce drives himself insane from the joy he feels by looking at the world through Robin Dick's eyes.

Every comic. In every. single. comic. All of them talk about how Dick was a happy child and a happy robin. Dick's talk about it, Jason's talk about it, Tim's talk about it, the Justice League's talk about it, the Batman's especially - all the batman comics - talk about.

I would've actually added about 50 more panels but I ran out of image space because posts only have a 30 image limit.

I'm not kidding when I say it's IMPOSSIBLE. ABSOLUTELY, INCONCEIVABLY IMPOSSIBLE to say that Dick was angry Robin. Dick, Jason, Bruce, Tim, Damian, Alfred, Barbara, the JL, the titans, the Gotham villains - they all talk about Dick was a symbol of hope, joy, and light to Bruce and Gotham.

Not only that but if you read the comics, you would know that Dick was a happy robin because all the following robins had a cascade effect on their personality based solely on the fact that Dick was a happy robin. Jason's personality was the result of Dick being charcterized as happy, and Tim's personality was based off Dick's being happy.

But you know what the biggest piece of evidence against this blasphemy that Dick was angry robin is?

Secret Origins (2014) Issue #8

"...Becoming a much needed FOIL to the batman, whose own grim obsession with revenge could easily have caused him to cross the line..."

Explain something to me. It canonically states the Dick was a foil to Bruce Wayne who used to be revenge obsessed and grim. A foil in literature means a character who contrasts with another character to highlight the differences between them.

So if Bruce was dark, gloomy, angry, and revenge filled and Dick was the foil, then how on earth is it possible Dick to also be dark, gloomy, angry, and revenge filled?

On top of this impossibility of Dick being angry and full of hatred, can we take a step back for a minute and think about Dick's position in all this? Dick is the very first child hero, the one countless heroes after him look up to because he, Robin, was the embodiment of light and goodness. He single-handedly dragged Bruce out of his pit of self-destruction merely by existing because of his charming and playful demeanor. How, then, is it possible for every single character in the entirety of DCU along with every single writer who has ever written a comic - to be wrong?

Let's be clear. Bruce's personality, is written to be the opposite of Dick's personality. And Dick's personality is the opposite of Bruce's. Furthermore, Jason and Tim's personality were written to be a response to Dick's. There's also Alfred waving a massive banner about how Dick is a literal godsend front and center. So. If you still believe, that Dick was not a happy robin, then you have effectively mischaracterized every single person in the entire batfamily aside from Kate.

Congratulations. It's truly an accomplishment to be so wrong.

So no, Dick was not in fact, ever, the angry robin.

Dick was a happy robin and that is the FOUNDATION of understanding the batfamily.

[kaethefangal]

Tim had quit his life as Red Robin. When he was younger he was so proud to be Robin, so happy that he got the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to fight by Batman’s side. Everyone thought he was destined to do great things, and honestly so did he. He would’ve never dreamed of leaving Batman’s side. That was until he found out about Jason. 

Finding out that Jason died made him hang up the cape. He couldn’t bear to carry on a mantle that wasn’t his. He knew Dick willingly quit, leaving the Robin position vacant. But Jason hadn’t willingly died, and Tim could never feel comfortable in that suit knowing it belonged to a dead kid. The second robin was great, and Tim could never live up to him, and he didn’t want to. He didn’t deserve to. A few years after he quit being Robin, he resurfaced as Red Robin. Because once you lived life as a bat you could never go back, not really. It was a perpetual struggle of constantly looking over his shoulder, constantly wondering if the woman staring at him was planning something or was just admiring his clothes.

 As of now, Tim acted as an information broker.  He worked with the entire Justice League and all heroes/vigilantes, including Jason. When they’d first met Tim was bleeding out on a rooftop after he’d won a fight as Red Robin but had taken substantial physical damage. He’d been expecting a punch in the face for replacing him or at least some kind of anger or resentment. Tim was surprised when the man’s first words to him were ‘Rough night?’ and even more surprised when Jason patched him up and sent him on his way. He’d only worked with Red Hood three times when he found out the man smoked weed. ‘I thought Red Hood was against drugs?’ Tim had asked him as he watched the man light a blunt. ‘Red Hood is against selling drugs to kids. I look like a kid to you?’ Jason asked with a raised eyebrow. Tim had just shook his head and turned back to the screen that was in front of him.

Tim was focused on his current case, his brows furrowed in concentration as he went over a file that the Titans needed from him when he heard those familiar three knocks at his window. He turned his head to find Jason standing on his balcony, his helmet on. Tim stood up to let him in because at this point they’d worked together enough to be considered friends. It’d started out with only interacting for crucial cases, but they grew on each other. Tim enjoyed Jason’s laid-back but still about-business attitude and in turn, Jason savored Tim’s non-judgemental and sarcastic personality. They complimented each other well, after all, albeit in different senses and categories, they were both emotional and social wrecks. Tim was a social recluse because he didn’t know how to understand complex human emotions and Jason was anti-social because he didn’t care about human emotions.

“What’s going on?” Tim asked as he lifted the window. Jason landed inside silently, which was ironic in comparison to his imposing build.

“Nothing. Just need these scanned,” Jason pulled a case holding 5 vials of green liquid from his jacket.

“Got it. What are they?” Tim asked, taking them from Jason and placing them in the chemistry analyzer that sat at his workstation. He sat in his chair, facing away from the man behind him, which was a huge show of trust in itself.

“No idea. Grabbed ‘em off some dealer I caught on the street today,” Jason replied.

“Is said dealer still with us?” Tim asked curiously. Personally, Tim didn’t kill. He couldn’t handle knowing he’d taken a life. Though he didn’t care much about Jason’s killings it still made him feel better knowing Jason was becoming less violent and more understanding.

“With us meaning..?” Jason asked with a hint of amusement in the robotic edge that his helmet put on his voice.

“In the world of the living,” Tim put out bluntly.

“Yes. In the hospital, but alive,” Jason said, taking off his mask.

“Doesn’t it get hot inside that thing?” Tim asked, turning around to face Jason.

“Better than being dead,” Jason shrugged, taking a seat on Tim’s bed.

“You’re never gonna let that one go, are you?” Tim chuckled.

“Would you?” Jason shot back lightning-quick.

“Fair point,” Tim conceded. The chemical analyzer dinged, catching his attention. “Looks like a drug called Viper,”

“Damnit, I should have killed him,” Jason scoffed.

“Bruce wouldn’t like that,” Tim said for nothing else but a reaction.

“Since when do I care about what Bruce likes?” Jason looked at him incredulously through his domino.

“Fair point, go ahead, kill the man,” Tim waved a hand dismissively towards the window.

“And you wouldn’t have a problem with that?” Jason asked in disbelief.

Tim fixed him with the look he always gave Jason when he asked a dumb question. “Viper is a deadly poison, and he was selling it. I’m not saying he deserves it, but he deserves it,”

“So you’d help me?” Jason asked with a small grin.

“Why would I help you kill a man?” 

“I meant help me find out where he got it from and shut the operation down,”

Tim knew the answer was yes, and had to stop himself from shouting it. He pretended to think about it for a few seconds before shrugging. “Sure, sounds fun,”

Jason’s grin grew and Tim couldn’t help but smile too. 

“I’ll swing by again tomorrow,” Jason said, standing. It was then that Tim noticed Jason piling all his weight onto his right leg.

“What’s wrong with your leg?” Tim questioned.

“Nothing. My leg is fine,” Jason replied. He began walking towards the window again but Tim noticed the slight limp he moved with. 

“Okay,” Tim sighed, kicking Jason in his left knee. 

“Fuck!” Jason shouted, falling to the ground.

“Thought there was nothing wrong with your leg?”

“I said my leg, not my knee,”

“Your knee is a part of your leg,” Tim called, making his way to the first aid kit he kept in his bathroom. He inwardly chuckled at how Jason attempted to hide his injury from Tim. 

He bent down, opened his cabinet, and looked for the shiny white box with the red plus sign on it. 

He returned almost as quickly as he left to find Jason lying on his bed.

“Either the pants come off or you roll them up,” Tim said as he sat the first aid kit on his bed and opened it.

“Roll it,”

“I’m not your maid,” Tim scoffed. The smile on his face betrayed how he wanted to sound but he didn’t mind much. “Not my doctor either but here we are,” Jason countered smoothly. Tim always enjoyed his and Jason’s banter, not that he’d ever tell the other man that.

Tim stared at him unimpressed. Jason scoffed and pulled his left pant leg up. Underneath it was a deep gash that was poorly stitched up. Blood leaked out of the stitch and it looked infected, yellow pus seeping out around the edges.

“This is one of the worst stitch jobs I’ve ever seen,” Tim said. He got on his knees and began cleaning the stitch with anti-septic.

“In Roy’s defense, his hand was injured too,”

“You should’ve told someone, this is dangerous,”

Jason huffed out a laugh. “That’s an occupational hazard baby bird,”

“Stop calling me that,”

***

Tim watched Jason jump out of his window, the man leaving with a shout of, “I’ll get you some new sheets!” 

Tim hadn’t noticed the blood-soaked sheets on his bed until after Jason was already gone. Tim could do nothing but sigh and begin getting ready for bed. He walked into his bathroom, taking in his appearance. His eye bags were still dark, and his face was still on the grey edge of pale. His eyes were tired, almost lifeless. He was beginning to see his skin clinging to his bone, a telltale sign that he hadn’t been eating. He sighed and looked away.

He brushed his teeth and washed his face almost robotically, avoiding locking eyes with himself in the mirror at all costs. 

He replaced his sheets and got into bed, letting his mind take the wheel.

Viper.

They were already aware of the effects of the drug, it slowly melted away calcium that the bones needed and left it’s victims with dust in place of bones, killing them slowly and painfully. It allowed for a small period of inhuman strength, which was unbelievably dangerous. Solomon Grundy was a prime example of why people out of their minds should not be given super strength. He only hoped they could shut the operation down before Viper spread too much. 

***

“Plan?” Tim asked warily. Jason had come crashing into his room with a look of pure rage on his face a few moments earlier. He’d explained to Tim that there was a new variant in Viper that allowed the victims to live longer and made them susceptible to suggestion. Tim didn’t like drugs that made people susceptible to suggestion. Jason had his theories on what the drug trafficking rings could use it for, who they could sell it to, and none of them were good. The way Jason paced as he spoke made Tim worry that he’d jump into action without a plan.

“My plan is to track down the piece of shit that started this and paint the wall with his brain,” Jason spat.

“Jay as of now you and I are the only ones on this. If you die who will help the victims?” Tim questioned in an attempt to be the voice of reason. 

Jason stopped pacing to think, at least that’s what Tim assumed, he couldn’t tell much from the helmet.

“Fine. What’s the plan?”

“Where’d you find the dealer last night?” Tim asked, turning to his computer.

“Corner of fifth and Eagleside,”

“There’s a warehouse not too far from there. I say we check it out, and if it’s a hit, follow it,”

“And if it isn’t?”

“Then we look somewhere else. The drug hasn’t hit the streets hard yet or else Bruce would know. We need to stop it before its next shipment,”

“Right. I’ll-”

Tim’s police radio went off, and he whipped his head towards the noise on his desk. ‘Hostage situation at Gotham Bank, calling all units,’ 

Tim turned his head back to Jason, who’s figure had just leaped out of his window. Tim could do nothing but sigh and run a hand down his face. He really hoped this wouldn’t get them killed.

[ladykailitha]

Sweet Home Indiana Part 4

Hi! Back with this lovely story! I am loving the fun everyone is having with this story.

Remember how I said Eddie gets worse? Welcome to step two of three of being a shithead.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

****

Steve was playing a bit of pool to burn off steam when trouble walked through the doors. He knew it was the only place for young adults to go to when they wanted a little fun but didn’t want to drive to Indy or Bloomington to get it.

He knew that all right. It still hurt to watch Nancy Wheeler to walk in and with Jonathan Byers on her arm.

She spotted him and waved.

Steve, the ever loving idiot he was, waved back.

Nancy gave him a hug and Jonathan did too. Steve forced himself not to react. Things were water under the bridge with these two. He knew that. But in her eyes, Steve still saw the potential of the life he could have had.

Not that Steve wanted the six kids in an RV like he had when he was in high school. Growing up changed that. Eddie changed that.

Which is when Eddie decided to walk through the doors of The Hideout.

Yep, Steve was in hell. He had been trying to avoid this. He had been wanting to unwind.

In short, he was going to kill Robin for suggesting they come out tonight. Because really? Where else in this god forsaken town were his exes going to go than here?

He made eye connect with Robin who was at the bar watching him play. She looked at the door and set her bottle of beer down. She wove through the crowd to cut Eddie off at the pass.

Eddie’s eyes lit up. “Robin!” he greeted warmly.

“Hey, Ed,” she said, soft but firm.

He looked behind her and then back at her. “Still Steve’s guard dog?”

“Yep!” Robin said showing all of her teeth. “You going to be good tonight?”

Eddie held up his hands. “I’m not here to start trouble. I just want to play some pool and have a beer or two.”

She raised an eyebrow, but let him pass.

Eddie spotted Jonathan and Nancy before he got to the pool tables and changed direction.

He kissed Nancy’s cheek and hugged Jonathan. “Hey, man! What are you up to these days?”

While they caught up, he felt the weight of Steve’s stare boring into the back of his head.

He didn’t want to look over there because he knew what he’d see. Steve Harrington, once the love of his life, bent over a pool table, cue in hand looking better than a man should at their age should look.

Eddie wished he could say that he fought valiantly before he gave in, but that would have made him a damn liar and he would rather not add to his sins being here.

What he saw made him see red. There was a guy standing close to Steve, too close in Eddie’s opinion. He was taller than him, broad shouldered and all smiles. He had one hand on the edge of the pool table with a beer bottle in his other hand. He said something and Steve did his little goofy snort. Wrinkling his nose, big smile, eyes half closed in laughter.

Maybe it was the fact that he was on his third beer and not enough food in system. Maybe it was it was move that Eddie had used on Steve a hundred times before. Maybe it was cause he was plain jealous of anyone who could make Steve laugh like that. He did the one thing he promised Robin he wouldn’t do.

Cause trouble.

He picked up a cue and dusted the end with chalk. The Hideout was known for their unusual black chalk. He blew on the end of his cue and smiled at Steve.

Steve immediately straightened up and away from the guy standing next to him, sensing Eddie’s mood. He gave him a warning glance, but knew it would be futile. Whatever Eddie had planned, he wasn’t about to be deterred.

“You up for a real game of pool, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, all ease and smiles. “Or does your talents still run toward the swimming kind?”

Steve looked over at his companion, who smiled reassuringly at him. He sighed and chalked up his cue.

“Rack ‘em up, Munson,” he growled. “I’ll show you just what you’ve been missing.”

Eddie’s answering grin was feral. He racked up the balls in the triangle and gave them a good shake.

“You’re up,” he said with a wink.

Steve closed his eyes and then lined up his shot. He bent over the table and he pulled back, Eddie let out a low whistle.

Steve jerked on the cue, it manage to break the balls, but none of them fell into a pocket.

“Sorry, babe,” Eddie said, clearly not repentant at all. “That ass has always been a weakness of mine.”

“Interference!” Robin booed, but Steve shook his head.

He knew what Eddie’s game was now, and he wouldn’t be surprised the next time it happened.

“You can look, but you can’t touch,” he said with a smirk. “Go ahead, try to do something with the mess you caused.”

Eddie flinched at the double entendre at that last statement. Steve was good at those, he just missed the days when the other meaning was sexual and not about the mess of their relationship.

Eddie kept drinking, like a man dying of thirst. If only the beer could quench it. The only thing that could sate his thirst was the man he was playing against.

The game was a dead heat throughout, both men in top form. Then it was a race for the eight ball, with Eddie winning, but barely.

“Not bad, Stevie,” Eddie said with a grin. “Maybe you should have let me give you some pointers to start with.”

“If you wanted to get off so badly,” Steve sneered, “maybe you should have stayed in Seattle with your fiancee, Eds.”

The guy that had been standing too close to Steve got between them. “You come in here and flirt with Steve and you have a fiancee? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Steve turned to the guy, away from Eddie. “Hey, Kevin, it’s okay.”

“Like Stevie here isn’t cheating too,” Eddie huffed, angry that Steve had chosen this guy over him. “Your date here is still married.”

Robin was at Steve’s side in a heartbeat, Nancy and Jonathan rushing between Steve and Eddie.

Kevin laughed. “So you’re the ex. Steve told me all about you. How you never picked him ever and you’re back in town trying to fuck up his life all over again.”

Eddie had far passed drunk and into three sheets to the wind category. And he was never kind when he was that drunk.

“Then tell this jackass to give a divorce and I’ll fucking blow this hell hole,” he spat.

The bar went silent. Everyone turned to look at Steve who had gone completely still. His hands were clenched into fists, his jaw set into stone, his eyes hard.

“You know what, asshole,” Steve said coldly, “I was going to sign once I got word back from my lawyer. But then you came into my shop, into my town, and throw your weight around like some hot shot from the big city and the answer is no. No, I won’t sign those god damn papers, because at least I tell people about you. Did your fiancee even know I existed before you asked her to marry you?”

Nancy looked between Steve and Eddie in shock. “Her?”

“Yes, of course I told Chrissy about you,” Eddie sneered crossing his arms and glowering. “You’re getting off the track, darlin’. This isn’t about her. This is about you being an ass and not divorcing me because you’re a bitter old shrew who never went anywhere. Just stuck in the same god damn town, not even living.”

He threw his arms in the air and screamed, “Fuck it!” And stormed out of the bar.

****

Eddie hated himself in the morning. He hate the way he acted when what’s-his-face got too close to Steve. He hated the way he acted when they were playing pool. He hated the way he threw back everything Steve had meant to him back in the guy’s face.

He needed to get to the bank to pull some money out. He needed to get some weed to unwind and dealers don’t take cash.

He shouldn’t buy from an unknown source especially since he didn’t know if it was still same supplier. But Steve was driving him out of his mind and all his nerves were raw and aching. Just like his fucking heart.

He got coffee from a Starbuck’s that definitely hadn’t been there when he left. They’re pastry section was shit but the little barista told him that was because no bought pastries from them, they all bought them from Sweetie’s Treats.

A place Eddie steadfastly refused to enter after his last encounter.

He let out a sigh and bought a pathetic little croissant, munching on the dry thing as he made his way to the bank.

It was going to be a long day. He could feel it in his bones.

****

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

I didn't tag this originally, I am so sorry. I was wondering why this wasn't getting the notes! Gosh! I don't how that happened!!

Tag List:

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @ravenfrog @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @vecnuthy @irregular-child

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95

7- @blackpanzy @amazing-spiderkeys @oldpinghai @raisedbylibrarians @kultiras

8- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steddie-as-they-go @captain--low @micheledawn1975 @thespaceantwhowrites

9- @mac-attack19 @blondie1006

[berenwrites]

Always and Forever - Stranger Things - Steddie - G

Rating: G | cw: none | tags: fluff, very light angst, Corroded Coffin, rockstars, touring

Prompt: Love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy (@forgottenkanji)

A/N: Written for @steddielovemonth day 29. Sorry I disappeared from this challenge halfway through. We lost one of our kitties (she was 14 ½) and I just kind of lost the impetus, but I figured I had to write something for the last day at least. No beta today because it was a last minute thing.

Also on AO3 soon | All My Other Stranger Things Fic

Always and Forever: Love Finds a Way

Steve stared at the phone for a long time after he put it down with the usual ‘I love you’. He spoke to Eddie every day after he got home and before Eddie was due on stage with the rest of Corroded Coffin. The three-month tour was nearly over, and it had done so much for the band’s popularity. Usually, Eddie sounded excited on the phone, even though he professed to miss Steve as much as Steve missed him.

Tonight, hadn’t been like that.

All Steve had been able to hear was the strain in Eddie’s voice. Oh, Eddie had tried to cover it with his usual exuberance, but Steve knew his boyfriend far too well. Something was wrong.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he picked up the phone again. He rang through to the band’s hotel, but this time he asked for a different room number.

“Hello,” came the rather disgruntled answer after a couple of rings.

“Gareth, what’s wrong with Eddie?” Steve asked without beating around the bus.

“Steve?” Gareth asked, although Steve was pretty sure it was just a stall.

“Gareth,” Steve said in a tone that usually had the not-kids-anymore kids jumping to do whatever he was telling them to.

There was a sigh from the other end.

“He’s having nightmares again,” Gareth finally said after a few moments silence.

“What? Why?” Steve asked.

“There was an incident at one of the venues,” Gareth revealed. “Nothing major, just some fans managed to get backstage and thought it would be hilarious to try and scare the big bad metal band. They had these demon masks and party poppers and hid in the green room. Security got rid of them, but it spooked all of us a bit.”

“If I ever get my hands on those assholes, I will fucking kill them,” Steve growled out, mind jumping to the nail bat he still kept under the bed.

The Upside Down was closed off, there hadn’t been any trouble for three years, but he could never quite shake the need to have a weapon to hand. He could only imagine what it was like for Eddie on tour in strange places. After all, Eddie had nearly died.

“They were just stupid kids,” Gareth did his best to sound soothing, but Steve was pretty sure they were actually in agreement.

“Why didn’t he mention it to me?” Steve asked.

“Probably because he didn’t want to worry you,” Gareth replied. “We’ll make sure he’s okay, Steve,” Gareth promised. “We love him too.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Thanks. Don’t tell him I called, okay? He’ll only worry about me worrying.”

“No problem,” Gareth replied. “Sorry, I have to go, the van’s waiting downstairs.”

“Knock ‘em dead,” Steve replied, “and thanks again.”

“See you in a couple of weeks,” Gareth said, and the line clicked off.

Putting the receiver back in the cradle, Steve stared at the phone for a little while longer. It was as he picked it up for the third time, he realised he had made the decision before he had even put it down the first time.

He didn’t stop moving until he was in sitting on the plane. He’d let Robin and Dustin know he was going and asked them to pass on the information. Robin had told him to ‘go get his man’. He’d packed a bag and called a taxi to the airport, barely pausing to make sure he had anything but his wallet. Luckily the girl on the ticket desk had taken pity on him and found him a not completely terrible flight across the country. Staring out the window, all he could think about was Eddie.

By the time he reached the hotel it was the early hours of the morning. He didn’t need to ask reception because he already knew the room number, so he headed straight up. When he stepped out on the right floor a guy in a black suit lurking in the shadows gave him a look. Apparently, someone was taking security seriously now. Corroded Coffin was what some publications liked to call an over-night sensation, even though they had been working hard for several years that didn’t seem to count. You couldn’t turn on a rock station without them coming up. They deserved to be looked after.

Also apparently, someone had briefed the security guy well, because he glared at Steve for a few moments and then appeared to relax. How security knew what he looked like he decided not to ask.

Walking quickly along the hall he got to Eddie’s door. The first thing he noticed was the sound of an acoustic guitar. Not really a surprise after what Gareth had told him. When Eddie couldn’t sleep, he always retreated to his music.

Lifting his hand, Steve knocked.

The guitar playing stopped.

Steve knocked again when no one answered the door.

A second later, the door was yanked inwards, and Eddie was staring at him as if he didn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

“Steve,” Eddie said, eyes big and round.

“Hi,” he replied and gave Eddie a little wave.

“Am I dreaming?” Eddie asked and sounded just a little afraid Steve wasn’t real.

“Nope,” he said, reaching out and touching the side of Eddie’s face.

Eddie almost clocked himself on the side of the head with his guitar, clearly forgetting he was holding it as he tried to cover Steve’s hand with his own. At which point, Steve took the guitar and gently shepherded Eddie back into the room. Once the door was closed, he put the guitar down, dropped his own bag and crowded into Eddie’s personal space.

“Missed you,” he said, taking Eddie’s face in his hands.

The were dark circles under Eddie’s eyes and his skin was pale, but he was just a beautiful to Steve as always.

“Missed you too,” Eddie replied, a tiny smile quirking his lips as he drank Steve in with his eyes. “How?”

“Need you to be happy, Eds,” he said, leaning forward so their foreheads were touching. “That’s all that matters.”

“But…”

“No buts,” he interrupted. “Need to hold you and chase the nightmares away.”

“Who told you?” Eddie asked, but there was no heat to his tone even as he wound his arms around Steve.

“Twisted Gareth’s arm,” Steve confessed, wrapping Eddie in a tight embrace. “Knew something was wrong on the phone earlier.”

“Not as good an actor as I think I am, huh?” Eddie said into his shirt.

“Only to me,” Steve assured him, “and well probably Wayne.”

That startled a laugh out of Eddie, but he didn’t move from his position in Steve’s arms.

“God I love you,” Eddie said.

“Me too,” Steve replied, “always and forever.”

When Eddie had gone off on tour it had seemed like such a big thing, the first reality of the rockstar lifestyle. Steve had worried it would pull them apart, but what he’d realised during the earlier phone call, was it was all irrelevant. All the mattered to him was Eddie. Everything else was just details to be worked out.

He didn’t have a plan. Hadn’t had more than the sure and certain knowledge he needed to get to Eddie. He would work out what to do next when he woke up in the morning with Eddie in his arms. That was the important part.

All My Other Stranger Things Fic

[inkstainedheartbeats]

Eddie knew, even before all this Upside Down shit, that Robin Buckley had Changed Steve Harrington. Knew it by scent, by sight, by the way that usually sweet Mrs Buckley of the used bookstore had snarled at Jeff when he made a dismissive remark about him. He knew and judged. It wasn’t law to not change the Mundane. The Preter could change those who gave consent, which usually involves far more government than either he or Uncle Wayne cared to have around them. But it was… it was Law, social kind ya know, to leave three families the fuck alone. The Carver’s, the Hagen’s and the fucking Harrington’s. And yet, there Steve is; all big brown eyes and an ass that won’t stop wagging like he’s got his tail in human form. Robin Buckley of the very small Buckley Pack had changed him. The heir to the third dangerous Hunter clan. All it would take is the elder Harrington’s coming back for a Hunt to happen.

He thinks he understands though. Holding on to Steve in this ash laden hell scape. They haven’t left the Wheeler’s not yet. Not with Steve collapsing and seizing. Whatever the weird ass bat things called saliva clearly not meshing well with Steve’s blood. Instincts scream at Eddie to bit down on that glorious neck. To suck just a touch into his mouth and force Steve to drink some of his own. They scream and scream and scream the longer that Eddie refuses. Tales of hybrids made by bite instead of love swirl around. It’s dangerous no matter the birth, the hybrid often dying an agonizing death.

“Eddie,” Harrington gasps out.

The girls are gathering supplies. They don’t know. But he can hear the race of Buckley’s heart from where she is at the Sinclair’s. She’ll be here soon.

“You… you gotta… gotta promise me. Keep… keep ‘em safe?”

He gives in to the instincts and bites down. Drinks blood that should be disgusting and awful but is instead sweet as candy. Bites down, hopes he hasn’t doomed Harrington. Makes the weak and confused boy drink Eddie’s blood too.

And he waits to see if Buckley is going to tear his throat out for killing her best friend and Pack Mate.

Now with a part two because I can’t leave shit alone.

[mxboxlocks]

PRIVATE DOMINATION/DOMINATED LINES!

i think i've posted them before, but this is my tf2 self-insert, the Private! they work under Soldier as an apprentice and mostly sticks by him through a lot of missions. i took a bit of time brainstorming their dom lines to get a feel for their personality and i think i did a pretty good job! so here you are!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

dominating scout "You run circles, I run miles, twerp!" "St-eee-rike! You're out!" "And that's what we do to spineless boys around my turf, slick. This is MEN'S territory!" "You're gonna need bandages for a lot more than your hands after that one." "DOMINATED, ya whiney little brat!" "I just knocked your ass out the ballpark!"

dominated by scout "Are you- Are you always this stupid? Cuz that was embarrassin'." "Dominated, bootlicker!" "You oughta get discharged, cuz there's no comin' back from that." "Y'know you take after your boss a lot; you're both easy to shoot, and you're both dumb as dirt!" "(laughter) Oh man! Wait'll I tell Soldier he's raisin' a HIPPIE!"

dominating soldier "Looks like THIS Private just moved up in rank!" "I'm taking your title, old man! Trial by combat!" "Land of the free, home of this boot I just shoved up your ass, Sarge!" "They should give me a medal for how hard I'm kicking your ass." "Saludos desde México, GRINGO! (Greetings from Mexico, FOREIGNER!)"

dominated by soldier "I don't wanna see your nose out of that dirt until your arms are about to fall off! IS! THAT! CLEAR?!" "Have you learned NOTHING, son?!" "DOMINATED! You are a disappointment! You are a coward!" "DOMINATED, you spineless hippie!" "Ohh, get up, it's only a scratch. UP, I SAID!" "DOMINATED! DISCHARGED! DEEEECEASED!"

dominating pyro "I got a waterhose back home with your name on it, Gas." "You're in hot water, ain'tchu?" "Holy mole, that's gotta burn!" (mole is a kind of Mexican spicy sauce) "Flail that 'thrower all you want, you can't burn a phoenix! CAWWW!" "DOMINATED, Pinkie Pie!" "You just got SMOKED!"

dominating heavy "Need an ice pack for that? Don't worry, we can bury you in the snow." "Your big gun doesn't scare me, Stallingrad!" "I never quit, I wanted your head! And so I shotcha til you were dead!" (reference to the song Rasputin by Boney M.) "Take that domination where the sun don't shine, lover-of-the-Russian-queen!" (another Rasputin reference) "Tell Dr. Boytoy he's gonna need to do a lot of work to get those bullets out of ya!"

dominated by heavy "DOMINATED. Now be quiet." "Dominated! You do not live up to your title." "Mm. You need more training." "Private is not disciplined! (singsong) Oh, Soldier!" "Stay down, little man. I do not enjoy killing babies."

dominating demo "Gotcha that time, Cap'n Loch Ness!" "Those bombs of yours ain't really all that useful when you can't keep your eye on 'em, are they?" "Didn't see me comin' did ya?" "Oof, you're gonna need more than a drink for that." "You just LOVE my bullets, don'tcha Cyclops? CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!"

dominated by demo "TELL YOUR SORRY EXCUSE FOR A LEADER THAT I'M COMIN' FOR HIM NEXT!" "A fine sendoff for a boot-lickin' bib-wearin' git!" "For your sake, laddie, I'll tell your ma you died doin' what you loved; gettin' your BLOODY ARSE handed to you!"

dominating engineer "You ever thought about buildin' a bulletproof vest?" "Not very intuitive design when your own sentry can shoot at you too, y'know." (rare) "Dominated! Tell Beecave I said best wishes!" "Twelve pHDs and for what?! Try a tour in the army, Quickdraw!" "They don't teach fightin' like that in IT, do they?" "Tend to your farm and mind your own damn business!" "DOMINATED, Marty Robins!"

dominated by engineer "You're not much smarter than yer mentor, are ya? Hell, y'all might be related." "Dominated. Tell Houston I said they can go to hell!" "Take your humid ass air back down to the coast, damn it!" "Not in my damn base, ya don't."

dominating sniper "You piss in jars and you keep 'em. I don't need to embarrass you any more." "Dominated, Heeler!" (vague reference to Bluey) "Aren't Australians supposed to be the best fighters in the world?! C'MON!" "I got you in my sights. Wanker."

dominated by sniper "(sotto voice) Gotcha, trench rat." "Gotcha, trench rat!" "(sotto voice) Another bloody moron crossed off my list." "Another bloody moron crossed off my list!" "You think wearin' a uniform makes you special, punk?!" "(sotto voice) They got cages in hell for people like you, grunt." "They got cages in hell for people like you, grunt!"

dominating medic "Someone call the waah-mbulence!" "And for your death certificate, that'll be 200,000 dollars! Name of insurance?" "What's this? A DNR? Baaad news, other team, the doctor is OUT!" "Dominated, pillskirt!" "Dominated, psych ward!" "DOMINATED, Frankenstein!"

dominated by medic "I would use your body for science, but it's so full of sugar and plastic I think I'd be better off robbing a grave!" "Ooh! That limb looks infected. I'll have to take it off." "You never SAW me coming, did you, fraulien?!" "Ha-ha-hah! Your blood, it gives me youth!" "Shut up and let me do my job!"

dominating spy "You sorry sacks of scum are USELESS to your teammates!" "Ooo, a ghost?! So spooooky!" "Need a cig, baguette?" "That's what you get you little weasel!" "Buy me a drink later and we'll call it even." "Eat that, white flag!"

dominated by spy "If your spatial awareness were as large as your ego, you'd have caught that!" "Now to torture the information out of you - or is that too much to handle?" "A knife in the back, like a kiss, au revoir." "I've met politicians with more conviction than you!" "Dominated! Now go back to your play-pen!" "Dominated, you scraggly ill-kempt mutt!"

[henrysglock]

Don't Speak, Don't Use Powers...What Do You Do?

Has anyone else noticed that Vecna doesn't speak or use his powers without being plugged into the UD tentacles? Because he doesn't speak or use his powers without being plugged into the UD tentacles.

When he fights Max/El, it's all within a vision/in the Mindscape, which we know he accesses when plugged in. They make a point to show us that he plugs in to access the Mindscape/perform Vecna Visions:

He's definitely able to use telekinesis and shapeshifting when he's plugged in/in a Vision or the Mindscape, which we know he plugs in to do...But then, the Mindscape disappears as soon as the tentacles unplug due to Nancy/Steve/Robin molotov-ing him:

He's not just being pulled out of performing a Vecna vision, he's being booted out of his own Mindscape, like someone yanking the ethernet cable out of an old Mac. The connect is broken...in conjunction with the tentacles pulling out.

Like...Young Henward didn't need tentacles to access whatever Vecna-like space he was supposedly accessing here when he was "holding up a mirror" or whatever:

Nor did he need them here to absorb the kids:

So why now? If Vecna is physically him, and he's been able to do it without tentacles in the past, then why now? What changed?

What, is there something special about the tentacles and tearing holes in the fabric between dimensions?

And why doesn't Vecna attack Nancy/Steve/Robin? He has psionic telekinesis (allegedly), so why does he just stand there staring at them once he's disconnected? Why doesn't he react to being attacked?

Why does he just roar and physically charge?

Why not pull one of these quick and easy kills?

He's shown specifically to be able to do it under imminent threat of injury/to protect himself...so why not toss Nancy/Steve/Robin away from him? Why let them continue to attack?

If Vecna is physically Henward, then why does he only use his powers in a mental space?

He reacts like he's part of the hive mind when he's disconnected:

But he never uses his powers. He just goes and plugs in.

Like I said earlier, he also doesn't speak. Vecna doesn't have a single physical line. All of his lines are in visions or in the Mindscape. "Vecna" just groans, moans, snarls, and roars:

Now...not to get too reachy, but there's definitely something special about these damn tentacles...and no one has been able to concretely explain how Vecna got from Dimension X to the blue UD.

However, the tentacles exist in Dimension X too:

So like...not to be insane, but if one guy has the Mindflayer:

and that's how he puppets people (see: Will)...then who's to say that "Vecna" is physically Henward?

Who's to say it's not this guy:

Using the tentacles as, like I said before, an ethernet cable to access a body in the UD, a place which is theorized to act as a middle space between Dimension X and the RSU?

After all...the current form is described as "rotted":

and the tattoo on Vecna does not match Henward's tattoo. Tattoos aren't something that can just change like that.

Furthermore, Em has theorized about Eddie being used as a corpse puppet in ST5.

Wouldn't it make sense for "Vecna" to need a corpse puppet if the current ST4 "Vecna" is also a puppet of some kind?

[rebouks]

-- anon

I'm sorry, but what kind of accent does Ivan have? He's the only sim who speaks that way and now that he's more in focus, I can't help but wonder where he comes from! Also, while I'm at it, I've also noticed that you stay loyal to the Sim world ("speaking in Tartosan" "a Tartosan goddess", etc), and while it's obvious that Tartosa was based on Italy and Spain, do you imagine your characters being from real countries and with distinct cultural backgrounds?

hmmm idk that he really has an accent as such, it's more that he speaks more loosely/common than every one else. i don't really have voice claims or any real countries to pin these pixels to cos they're sims u kno, it'd probs get messy if i started tying things to irl and not others.. so nah, other than rough stuff like vaguely japanese for mt. komo or italy for tartosa i don't pin em to real places ig you could use my northern english accent as an example tho, like my mom is pretty well spoken but still northern right? so she pronounces her t's n shit but my accent is way more common and i drop all mine to a ridiculous extent (if i was to write butter or water the way i'd say it it's practically unreadable lol.. like bu'uer? bUHer?? idk lmao) so Ivan probs speaks like me tbh.. Tommy, Rhys and a couple others speak that way too and Oscar does when he's drunk

-- @zosa95

For Bryatt!

Disagreements: How often do they argue/disagree? ehhh probs not a lot, i can't imagine Wyatt engaging in pointless arguments, he'd just walk off lmao

Sex: Who moans the most? Brynn..

Family: Who changes the diapers? mostly Brynn

Family: Who gives their children ‘the talk’? idk ig with Ellis it'd be Wyatt but it'd be like "wrap it up n' pee" so i can see Brynn adding to that 😆 all Brynn if they have a girl tho

Affection: Who gives the most kisses? Brynn!

Sleeping: Who wakes up with bed hair? Wyatt.. u know Brynn has pictures of that shit

Home: Who does the groceries? Wyatt.. gotta make sure actual food is in the house u kno

Miscellaneous: Who kills the spiders around the house? no one.. lil spider did no one any harm 🕷

Miscellaneous: What do they tease each other about? hmm idk if they tease each other all that much tbh, they're playful but not at each other's expense u kno

-- @akitasimblr

hello becca! for salton, pleeeeeeease <33

Who is on top? Sid most the time lmaooo.. let's face it, Alton be lazy n' submissive

Ever had sex in public? a couple times

Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? in between? mostly the latter

Where is the strangest place? probs a broom cupboard or smth at uni idk lmao 😆

thanks!!!

-- anon

I know you don't do WCIF but would you mind sharing the creators you like most for male sim clothes? I struggle to clothe my guys a lot and I noticed you have a huge cast of male sims, so I was wondering. My bad if this sort of ask is unwelcomed too tho

but.......... skjdskj idk darte77 and gorillax3 are prolly good places to start or u kno.. google

-- @akitasimblr

hello becca!!! one more extra i wish to know of: well, a couple now, rickey love and patrick harvey :) a) where are they living now? b) what do they do for a living? c) any chances of seeing them again in fib (or their daughter...??)? thank youuuu!

ohhhh idk.. i think the whole point of em, as sad as it may be, is that Oscar n them lost touch n they kinda fell off the face of the earth u kno? a price Oscar paid for his choices ig never say never tho! and we'll see 'em again when i eventually get round to doing a uni flashback for Oskie so yay! 🤸‍♀️

OC Deep Dive Questionnaire Tag

A set of 20 questions to get to know your OC! ty for the tag @dandylion240 @hannahssimblr @sirianasims & anyone else i forgot <33

ROBINNNNNNN 🧡

What uncommon/common fear do they have? that Oscar will disappear off into his confusing world of horribleness Robin doesn't fully understand yet ;-;

Do they have any pet peeves? not rlly.. pretty hard to piss the guy off

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom? headphones - cameras - letters ^^

What do they notice first in a person? their thoughts 👀🧠

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance? idk.. 4/5? i imagine he's kinda used to feeling other ppls pain as well as his own but he's still a baby ;-;

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? FIGHT!

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? yeeeeah.. he likes some quiet time now n then but he loves his family sm 🤗

What animal represents them best? fuck if i know.. a fly on the wall? lmao

What is a smell that they dislike? stinky younger sibling diapers

Have they broken any bones? not yet.. somehow

How would a stranger likely describe them? weird.. QUIET

Are they a night owl or a morning bird? night owl.. it's peaceful when everyone's asleep 💤

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love? cilantro/coriander - pastries

Do they have any hobbies? photography - pissing around in the sea/on his bike/in whatever he shouldn't - writing to Alex - SPYING ON PPL

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? u can't surprise the lil guy.. i dare u to try

Do they like to wear jewelry? yeah ig as much as a kid does.. string stuff, friendship bracelets or w/e

Do they have neat or messy handwriting? kinda messy.. maybe it'll be neater later

What are two emotions they feel the most? intrigue & overwhelmed

Do they have a favorite fabric? he said he doesn't care

What kind of accent do they have? ✨imaginary pixel land accent✨

and ty to anyone who's sent me any love trains recently <33333 ily all sm but i got overwhelmed the more i let pile up in my inbox so i deleted everything so i could breathe again 🙈

[powderblueblood]

Dear Powder, may I please request

"Look, I'm just gonna go home and kill myself. You want to share a cab?"

With my girl Robin please? 🖤

200 CIGARETTES SENTENCE PROMPTS!

"it's ten pm!"

robin stares at you like that means anything, literally anything, the both of you letting the cold seep through you on this frozen city street. lights dapple the slowly thawing sidewalks. snow bunches up around stationary cars like mounds of forgotten icing. the light dapples her face too, peeking out from behind her woolen behemoth of a scarf-- multicolored reflections from tacky christmas bulbs still hanging all around make her sparkly eyeshadow even sparklier, like a pre-show for the new year's fireworks.

she looks pretty. prettier than you remember her from freshman orientation, and you remembered her.

you scoff. "you can't kill yourself at ten pm on new year's eve, it's like-- it's like you didn't even try."

"i tried!" robin protests, hands gesturing wildly towards the bar you've just followed her out of. "i tried, and i got stood up, so i failed, okay?"

"and you wanna go into the new year in a new city with that bullshit attitude?" your arm goes up and you're hailing a cab. she's just kind of bobbing her mouth at you, but you know that you both need to find another bar-- and fast. "fine. but the way i see it, you got two more hours of spectacular striking out left in you, buckley. better make 'em count."

the yellow cab screeches to the curb and you hold the door open for her.

"wait a second, are you offering to wingman for me?"

you shrug. "why not? i got dumped tonight, remember? i need somewhere to channel all this affection or it'll give me an ulcer. i really don't want an ulcer!"

she stares at you a sec, brow pinched like why would you do this for me? you don't even know me!

"and look!" you extend a hand, "if we totally fail, you can at least kiss me at midnight before you go home and stick your head in the oven. deal?"

robin swallows, takes your gloved hand in hers. "my dorm only has a toaster oven."

you giggle. reluctant to let go of her hand. "then we better get to work."

[findafight]

Stargyle (Steve x Argyle) can actually be so good. The are both so shaped and I think they bond over being some of the only people to freak the fuck out when confronted with the upsidedown bullshitery but ultimately choose to help. Like they are chillin and Argyle is like "oh yeah Jonny had to hold my hand and calm me down because I was deffo having a panic attack when we killed a guy."

And Steve nods "yeah I had one too and during it I hit a demogorgon with the nailbat but it knocked me into a wall and I passed out so like. Don't sweat it man."

"oh cool. Glad I'm not the only person to freak out when and then go back to help. Cool."

"guess we're the same kind of idiot, huh?"

Also Argyle as the only person In the Know to have no preconceived notions about Steve other than Will and El mentioning how he would sneak them into movies or give them free ice cream and rides, or how Dustin had called dibs on adopting him as a big brother. He never knew Steve at the height of King Steve and therefore Steve doesn't feel he has to prove he's changed, that he's been working on being a better person. He can just exist with someone around his age who isn't his ex or the guy she left him for or Robin (whom he loves dearly but they need other friends, and also took the news of Russians under the mall very well for someone who didn't know anything else about Hawkins' abnormalities) or Eddie, who got pulled kicking and screaming into it and didn't have any choice.

They exchange hair care routines and experiment in Steve's kitchen and are the designated taxi service for the kids and laugh about how those teenagers got em both wrapped around their fingers without even knowing. (Or, they totally do but they aren't gonna admit it)

And maybe when they're waiting outside for everyone to finish up get in the cars Argyle says "y'know dude, besides saving the world or whatever actually happened, maybe all that freaking out on the drive from Cali was worth it"

Steve smiles and leans in "oh? Why's that?"

"'cause I got to meet you here, man."

He smiles "yeah? I'd say I agree. Saying goodbye to the Byers last summer was worth it, since they brought you here. To me."

And then Steve brushes Argyle's hair behind his ears and pulls him in for a soft kiss. Hehe

[macabrecravings]

strawberry / crimson / blush for all 3!!! <3

STRAWBERRY - What part of them is most like you? Was this intentional?

Honestly, I project SO MUCH onto these characters, It's how I flesh them out so much. Each of them have interests of mine, music, personality traits, my thoughts shoved into them. Ahhh, they're so special to me <3 Cain ��� Answered this jokingly before, but idk T_T Having a hard time pin-pointing anything. There's definitely a lot of love put into him, but I'm blanking on particular features. He allows me to feed into my weird religious fixation despite never being religious— Evangeline — Her body. 100% intentional and not a choice I made at the beginning of her creation— only more recently. Obviously not a 1-to-1 comparison, but it's cool to not search the internet for a ton of references. (Projecting features that I'm insecure about onto my most insecure character allows me to be. Vulnerable in a way that's not apparent to anyone else other than me but the freedom to represent things has been helping me x_x) Seraphina — ...everything. She was my absolute favorite for months and I would project everything onto her LMAO. She allows me to talk about creepypasta, scene stuff, my little pony, "old internet" stuff specifically like 2000s-2010s,,, She is the OC who is cringe for the sake of it, and I WILL put her into anything else I like (BTD/TPOF) because I made her specifically to fit well in things like that bc I like them!!! Guys I love seraphina so miuhcjhjhjkhgjg She is my mary sue ................... put her everywhere...

CRIMSON - What would it take for them to kill someone they know?

I know this question is asking for specific scenarios, but I'm giving you traits. Cain — Less restraint & morals. I think he's physically capable of killing someone, but he does have a lot of empathy, despite the sadistic tendencies. When it comes to people he knows though, he's very devoted. I think of him like a dog. I don't think he could. He'd rather die probably, LOL. Would think of it as some saviour sacrifice stuff. Evangeline — Confidence, physical strength depending on the method. I mean, the girl is 4'11" & malnourished from eating fucking rats in the sewer... She's not particularly close to anyone in general. She doesn't have the emotional connection to push past like the other two. She's also very unstable and has access to a lot of medical supplies and drugs. BUT. She cannot even lift a finger to protect herself, no way she'd premeditate a murder. She would never be able to hurt a fly unless some miracle of confidence and self respect came over her. ^_^ Seraphina — Depends on who...? She's got an interest in the macabre (hehe), pretty desensitized to blood/gore 0.0 Again, I think the emotional connection would be what restricts her from it. Even in the Kylar Dies AU, she's not the one to kill him. She couldn't. No matter what they put each other through. In the BTD universe, there's less of that emotional connection.

BLUSH - Who flusters them most?

Cain — Sydney. Evangeline — Doctor Harper. Seraphina — Kylar...? (This is a hard choice. If OC's are included, it's Abel. In game, it's a battle between... Kylar, Robin, Whitney, Avery...) I think Whitney would fluster her because he's down w/ exhibitionism. Robin's confidence is high but it's not enough to like...... FLUSTER her... (despite her love for him. he's very vanilla and she is Not.) Um.... Avery's kind of like clockwork. She's not much of a thrill. Kylar though, I feel like he's often super jealous & hysterical and that would definitely. drive him to do more rash things just to please her & keep up w/ her...? "I dont want to hurt you but I will if u want me to" "Oh em gee rlly....??? ur so devoted wahhh ilysm <3"