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juniperskye · 5 months

Text

I’ll do things right this time.

Sneak peek: Bucky and you had been exploring the dynamics of a d/s relationship, only you didn’t do as much research as you should’ve which is how you end up experiencing sub drop. That’s a mistake Bucky won’t let happen again.

Bucky x Avenger! Fem Reader

Smut/Angst/Fluff

Word count: 4170

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, Porn with plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up), fingering, oral (female receiving), D/S dynamic, spanking (with a belt), Language, choking, aftercare!, dirty talk? (not degrading, but something), no use of y/n, talk of depression and mental health, subspace, sub drop, Let me know if I missed any.

Not edited - This thought came to me this morning and I had to get it written down. Also I do NOT consent to having my work translated or posted to any other site! That being said I don't own the following images of characters. Enjoy!

Bucky’s hand gripped your throat as he continued to pound into you from behind, placing just enough pressure to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You were in pure bliss, not a single coherent thought running through your head, only thoughts of him.

“That’s it doll, take my fucking cock.” Bucky grunted.

You could only whine in response. Your mind had long since emptied and you were left unable to form words. You felt like putty in the hands of your boyfriend, and you couldn’t be happier. You knew this had been good for Buck. The two of you recently exploring your sex life had led to this night where he was truly dominating you for the first time. After having no control in his life for so long, you knew he needed this, to control something, to control you. And you fucking loved it, surrendering yourself to him completely was the greatest experience, especially if it would feel like this every time.

You could feel what had to be your fourth or fifth orgasm approaching, and you were too far gone to even notify Bucky before it came crashing over you.

“Christ, another one. Baby you’re gripping me so ti-ght” Bucky breathed into your ear as he sloppily thrusted into you. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum doll. I’m gonna fill you up so good.” And with those words he finished, pushing his seed into you as his hips slowed.

He didn’t slip out right away, instead he stayed momentarily as he removed his hand from your throat and pressed a chaste kiss to your shoulder. You were so far gone, you’d honestly didn’t even feel it, so when he’d actually slipped out of you and then the bed to retrieve a wet cloth to clean up the mess pooling between your legs, you hissed from not only the sensitivity but the shock.

Bucky threw the cloth into the laundry basket in your bathroom and returned to your bed. As he positioned himself behind you, he let his arm creep around your middle and pull you into him.

“You with me doll?” He questioned.

“Mmhmm.” You hummed as you nuzzled your face into the pillow.

You’d never felt like this before. I mean sure, Bucky has definitely fucked you stupid before, but this was different. It was like your consciousness had left your body and was watching from the other side of the room. It had been so good…so what was this darkness that was starting to creep in?

The morning came quickly, Bucky had been alerted to a meeting. Needing to complete the official debriefing from his latest mission, which left you all alone in your bed. When you stirred and rolled over to find the bed empty on his side, well that was the cool wind that pushed the door open, inviting the darkness in.

Bucky found you curled up in bed like this hours later. He was immediately filled with panic, you never stayed in bed all day, not unless it was by his side. Or if you were feeling particularly down.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on? Can you tell me what’s wrong?” He questions.

Your silence only worried him further. Normally if you were going through an episode you’d at least inform him in some way that you didn’t want to talk to him. Why were you being so quiet now? He leaned down to kiss your hairline and whisper to you that he was there if you needed him. It was when two whole days had passed, and he was sure you hadn’t moved, that he became increasingly worried. He’d vented to Steve a bit and ultimately Steve couldn’t offer much advice, this was uncharted territory for him.

It was when Bucky ran into Wanda that he got the idea. If she could just tap into your head and see what was going on, maybe he could make things better. He needed to know if he had caused this, if he was the reason you were lost in the storm of your mind.

“I don’t like to do this without consent of the person Barnes.” Wanda seethed.

“I know, but Wanda she’s your friend and she has been like this for almost three days, and I am worried about her!” Bucky rushed.

“Fine!” Wanda folded.

Bucky watched as the red fog made its way from Wanda’s fingers to your mind. Wanda’s face contorted as she made contact with your thoughts. Bucky couldn’t quite read the expression she was wearing. Wanda let a small smile grace her lips briefly before it turned into a grimace and then a scowl, directed at Bucky.

“You are lucky she is my friend, because that was way too much information.” Wanda cringed.

“So? What is it? What’s wrong with her?” Bucky begs.

“She explained it as sub drop. She had read about it, it’s like when you drop from such a high. It can hit especially bad if there isn’t proper aftercare.” Wanda explained.

Bucky nodded in understanding. He thanked Wanda and apologized for the awkwardness of the situation. He made his way to your laptop to figure out how he could make things better. Unfortunately, it seemed to be very similar to when you were in a depressive episode. He had to reassure you he was there, but ultimately waiting it out was the only option.

It took 36 more hours for you to speak to him again. He was sure he’d imagined it initially, but as you sputtered from the dryness of your throat, he made out your request.

“Water?”

He jumped up so quickly to get you the water and after you’d taken a few sips he had pulled you into his arms and held you tightly for hours.

That was three weeks ago.

“You’re never going to touch me again are you?” You wondered.

You glanced over at Bucky, who was scrolling through his phone. Presumably looking even further into the d/s dynamic you’d started. Since the incident he had expressed that you two wouldn’t engage in a scene until he was sure how to do it safely.

“Doll, I just want to make sure that we’re doing this right. That things are safe and healthy.” He explained.

“But things were safe! It was so good baby, soooo good!” You reassured him.

“You couldn’t see yourself though! I was so fucking scared.” Bucky sat up in bed and looked over to you, tears forming in his eyes. “Sweetheart it was like you were gone. I thought I had lost you. I know how you get when things go dark for a bit, but this was worse. You weren’t even talking, let alone moving or eating.”

Bucky’s explanation had honestly shocked you; you knew it had been bad and that it had shaken him, but you didn’t think it had affected him this much. You were someone who delt with seasonal depression and you were also someone who had highhighs and low lows. Finding out that the darkness you had been feeling and that had ultimately consumed you had in fact been sub drop didn’t exactly come as a shock to you. Given your history it made a lot of sense that you would be more susceptible to it. But hearing how it had messed Bucky up broke your heart and so you’d let him take his time and do the research he wanted to ensure that you could try to avoid it next time around.

You didn’t think that you would have to wait nearly TWO months.

You finally got him to snap at Tony’s annual charity gala. You had all been dressed up and Bucky looked good. You loved it when he wore a suit, Tony had made sure that he had some that were tailored perfectly. You could kiss Tony for that, it had hugged Bucky in all the right places. The problem was, Bucky was purposely not giving you the attention you wanted.

It was time to take matters into your own hands. You’d get his attention one way or another and you’d had a good idea of how to do it.

You made your way over to where Thor was standing at the bar. He was telling stories of his life on Asgard when you’d come up next to him. You wrapped one of your arms around his back and let the other lay on his chest. Thor thought nothing of this, wrapping his arm around your middle, pulling you closer.

From across the room, Bucky was watching you. His jaw clenching, hands balling into fists. He shook his head. He knew what game you were playing, and he couldn’t give in. He needed to wait until things were right. He was honestly scared. He didn’t want to relive what happened last time.

“If you’re just gonna stand there, then I am going to do something about this.” Steve scoffed he couldn’t stand to watch his friend suffer.

He watched as Steve made his way over to you and Thor. Upon his arrival your face lit up, you called out for Steve and threw your arms around him. You let your arms travel the length of his broad back, looking up into Bucky’s eyes. You turned around so your back was now facing Bucky, all the while staying in Steve’s embrace. You whispered seductively into Steve’s ear.

“I just want him to fuck me, that’s all.”

Steve’s face went bright red as he looked down into your eyes. That was it. Bucky had seen enough. He couldn’t let this go on any longer. In seconds, Bucky had made his way across the room and was now dragging you back to your shared room, mumbling something under his breath that you couldn’t quite make out.

“If you’re going to talk shit, can’t you at least say it loud enough for me to hear?” You quipped.

“Jesus. I think you forgot who you’re talking to.” Bucky said turning swiftly, gripping your chin with his metal hand. “You were the one in there parading around and putting your hands all over Steve and Thor. I mean for fucks sake.”

“Okay well maybe I was all over them because you haven’t touched me in months! I am not made of glass! Maybe I should go back out there and see if Thor is interested.” You said, feigning innocence.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Bucky growled. “Our room now. Strip and kneel.”

A shiver of anticipation made its way through your body. You couldn’t be more excited about what was to come. You figured you’d be punished, but it would all be worth it in the end. You were buzzing with excitement, unsure of what to expect as Bucky had been doing research for the past two months leading up to this moment.

You had to push your thoughts aside as you followed his orders, stripping yourself bare and kneeling at the foot of the bed, waiting for him to enter.

“Oh, so you can follow directions.” Bucky’s arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the door frame.

As badly as you’d love to snap back at him, you knew it would only piss him off more. So, you kept your mouth shut. You desperately wanted him to touch you. You had been yearning for it, and here it was finally going to happen, burning like a flame ready to consume you both.

“I want you on your hands and knees. Before I can do anything with you, you need to be punished.” His voice was calm as he spoke, making his way to the bench at the end of your bed.

“Yes sir.” You obeyed.

You got yourself into position on the floor in front of him. In his hand he was gripping his belt, you hadn’t even noticed him remove it. The thought alone had sent a rush of slick between your legs. Once you were settled, he ran the edge of the belt down your back, this caused you to jump slightly. The cool leather had been a shock against your heated skin.

“Are you ready doll? You’ll take your punishment silently, understood?” He looked to your face, gauging your every expression.

“Yes sir.” You replied quicky.

“Color?”

“Green.”

With that came the first strike of the belt. It wasn’t hard enough to put you in tears, but it was by surprise which caused you to stumble forward a bit. You could hear Bucky readjust himself as you regained your composure. The second you had righted yourself brought another strike and then another. By the fifth one, a whine slipped from your throat.

“Sorry sir.” Your voice was hoarse.

“See that’s the thing, good girls don’t need to apologize because they do what they’re told.” With that he snapped his belt against your already reddening cheeks.

“I can be your good girl sir.” You pleaded.

“Oh, I know you can be, I just don’t think you want to be. I think you like being a little brat because it leads to this.”

Bucky’s words and tone had gone straight to your core. The research he’d done must’ve been damn good because you were in pure ecstasy. You were dripping down your thighs, so much so, you knew he could see it.

“Alright doll. Five more, and I want you to count them out. Color?” He checked in.

“Yes sir. Green.” You barely got the words out before the belt fell against your skin.

“One.”

Another strike.

“Two.”

Another. This time slightly harder.

“Three.”

The next one was lower, the leather lightly grazing your lips. You couldn’t help the strangled gasp that escaped your mouth.

“Four.”

“Color?” He was quick to check in, worried about the sound you’d released.

“Green.”

“Doll. Color?” He didn’t believe you.

“Green sir. I’m so green.” You could hear the arousal in your own voice.

“Good.” He said as he brought the belt down one final time.

“Five.”

Bucky threw his belt to the side, grabbing you by your elbow pulling you up off the floor. You stumbled a bit, your knees weak from having been on the floor for some time. He looked at you with lust blown eyes. He gripped your face and kissed you with the passion you had been missing these last two months. You two stayed like that a moment, before he finally pulled back.

“Up on the bed, on your back.” He ordered as he began to rid himself of his clothes.

You scrambled up onto the bed, waiting for his next move. Watching him, desperately wanting his touch as he removed his tie and dress shirt. He brought the tie over towards you.

“Arms up sweetheart.” He instructed.

“Bu-” You had to stop yourself.

“No. You sat and had your hands all over Thor and Steve. I think you need to learn that touching is a privilege to be earned.” He said as he pulled your hands up over your head securing them both to the headboard with his silk tie.

This was a new side to Bucky, his tone, how domineering he was being. You could already feel yourself becoming more and more fuzzy. This is better than what you had imagined when you’d first brought up the dom/sub dynamic.

Once your hands we secured, Bucky took a step back, clearly admiring his handywork. He let out a low growl as he made his way back to you, between your legs.

“Christ doll. You’ve made a mess. Who’s got you this wet?” He had a teasing tone.

“You sir! You do!” You wanted nothing more than him to touch you, your body was practically vibrating in anticipation.

He leaned down to your ear, breath hot on your skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying hard to focus on his words.

“That’s right doll. Remember who makes you feel this good.”

He plunged two of his Vibranium fingers into your dripping heat and you let out a strangled cry.

“Bucky!”

This only encouraged his behavior. He sped up the pace of his thrusts, leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. You tugged at your restraints, wanting nothing more than to run your fingers through his gorgeous hair. Your hips were lifting up off the mattress, begging for something more. He pressed his pelvis into yours to aide in stilling your movements. His fingers curling up, perfectly grazing that spot inside you. His lips transferred to your other nipple, sure to give it attention before making his way down your body.

You could feel yourself nearing the edge as he attached his lips to your clit. You gasped; his actions having stolen all the air from your lungs.

“Oh my god, yes. Please! I’m gon-I’m so close.” You’d managed to get out.

“Hold it.” Bucky demanded, his eyes gazing up to yours.

“What? I don’t…I don’t think I can.” You and bucky had talked about orgasm denial and truthfully it had been an exciting topic.

“You can and you will, if you want my cock.” He stated, his teeth grazing your clit gently.

He continued working his fingers in and out of your cunt and his tongue against your clit all the while you were doing everything in your power to think of anything but the pleasure you were feeling in hopes to prolong the arrival of your orgasm. This went on for what felt like an eternity before he finally uttered the words.

“Cum now.”

That was all it took for the gush of wetness to release from you and all over his fingers. You cried out, tears streaming down your face, your body shaking from the pleasure. Bucky was sure to stop slowly, not wanting to shock you with an abrupt end to the pleasure before untying your wrists and moving to your next positions.

“You still with me doll?” Bucky asked, gently caressing your face.

“Mmm, yes” you said, attempting to catch your breath.

“Good, because I’m not done with you yet.” He kissed you once more before helping to position you.

Bucky was sat, leaning against the headboard. He pulled you up into his lap, your back pressed firmly against his chest as he lowered you onto his cock, both of you letting out low moans. His hands moved from your hips, his Vibranium hand back to your clit and his flesh hand to your jaw, turning your head.

“Eyes open sweetheart.” He instructed you.

As you opened your eyes you could see that he had positioned you in such a way that you could see everything in your full-length mirror that was sat in the corner of the room.

“I want to see your gorgeous face when you cum on my cock.” He whispered into your ear.

“But wait, what about…” You started.

“Uh-Uh. Baby tonight is about me reminding you who you belong to. Got it?” The way he could read your mind was like pure magic.

“Yes sir.” You obeyed.

His hand turned your face a bit further so he could capture your lips in a kiss, before turning you back toward the mirror then landing around your neck. Bucky applied a bit of pressure there, analyzing your reactions in your reflection. Your eyes meet his in the mirror and you nod subtly, your lips ghosting over the word green.

He didn’t need any more reassurance; your consent was the release of the flood gates. Bucky used his hand on your neck as a sort of anchor as he snapped his hips up into your own, his Vibranium fingers working over your clit. Pushing you to the edge, you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold back this time. Looking at Bucky’s eyes in the mirror once more, he could see the broken plea in your expression.

“Go ahead baby, cum on my cock.” He grunted.

You couldn’t form words or thoughts as your orgasm crashed over you. You felt the pressure in your lower body release along with a wave of wetness around Bucky’s cock. Your breathing was shallow as he continued to fuck up into you, chasing his own release. You could feel him become more ragged, his breaths and his thrusts, he was close, and you couldn’t wait to be filled with him.

“Fuck sweetheart, your pussy is so fucking tight.” He huffed out as he spilled inside you, his seed coating your walls as his hips slowed.

The room was quiet, save for your breaths returning to normal, Bucky’s hands had moved from your clit and your throat to wrap around your middle, hugging you to him as he pressed gentle kisses to your neck and shoulders. Worry was beginning to consume his as you still hadn’t said anything, and you wore that same fuzzy expression as last time.

“You okay doll?” Bucky asked.

“Mmhmm, I’m good baby.” You mumbled, pulling his hand up so you could lay a kiss against his palm.

“Good, let’s go get you cleaned up.” He released a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding.

Bucky slid the two of you off the bed, trying to keep the mess to a minimum. When you made it to the edge, he slowly lifted you off of his lap, causing you to whine. He shushed you gently rubbing circles on your hips as he inspected your ass for the damage he had caused. It was red and angry, no broken skin, but there were welts that he knew would hurt for the days to come.

“It’s okay bub, I can’t even feel it.” You muttered, knowing he might be cursing himself for causing you pain.

“You can’t feel it now doll, that’s the adrenaline. But tomorrow they’re going to hurt. Let’s get you in the bath.”

He led you into your bathroom. He started the water, making sure it was nice and warm. Then he went into your cabinets to retrieve the Epsom salt and bubble bath to add to the water. The room started to fill with steam and the scent of lavender. You looked over at Bucky and smiled, he reached for your hand and guided you to sit in front of him in the tub. You let out a sigh of relief as you slid into the hot water, muscles relaxing as you lean back against him.

“That’s it. I’ve got you.” Bucky praised.

“Thank you bub.” You whispered, closing your eyes.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. Arms wrapping tighter around your middle.

“I love you baby. Promise you’ll tell me if you start feeling down again?” He says, nuzzling his nose at the base of your neck.

“I love you Buck. And I promise.”

The two of you stay in the bath until the water becomes tepid. Bucky has to rouse you, so you don’t slip down into the water further as he removes himself from behind you. Once freed, he bends down to scoop you out of the tub, settling you on the towel that awaits on the counter. He bundles you up in the warmth of the fabric, drying you off carefully. He looks in your expectant eyes and lets you know he needs to go change the sheets. Unbeknownst to you he had thrown them in the dryer when he went to grab your towels before the bath.

He had been gone for a bit, so you hopped off the counter, making your way to the bedroom only to see him placing a tray on the freshly made bed. On it were two glasses of water, some cut up berries and a piece of buttered toast. Tears sprung to your eyes as you took in the sight.

“Ah, doll, I was going to come and get you!” He explained.

“Sorry bub. This is all so sweet.” You sniffled.

He slowly made his way to you, pulling you into his arms. He kisses the top of your head before removing your towel and pulling one of his t-shirts over your head. He walks the two of you over to the bed and you notice the bottle of wound care on the side table.

“Can you lay on your stomach for me doll?” He pleads.

You nod and do as you’re told, laying down and sliding the t-shirt up to expose your raw skin. Bucky is careful in his movements trying not to agitate the skin any further as he rubs the cream into your skin. He leans down to press a kiss to your hip. He scoots up a bit and moves to your wrists, gently massaging them as well, wanting to ensure they also get attention after having been bound. As he rights your positions to cuddle with one another up at the headboard, he feeds you the snacks he brought and makes a promise to spend the next few days by your side.

“Bub you don’t have to do that.” You explained.

“No doll. I’ll do things right this time.” He promised.

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yandere-kokeshi · 11 months

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Could i please request a Platonic Yandere Peter B. Parker with a reader from a different universe (maybe in their original universe, he's their biodad?)

Warnings: platonic-yandere behavior

A/N: we love Peter b. Parker. Ty for requesting! Hope you enjoy :]

He’s shocked, to say the least. He already has his daughter tangled around him as he works with Miguel and the other Spidermen. Plus, taking care of miles is another job. But when Miguel told him about a new Spider-Person, he was intrigued.

But, when he saw you appear at the quarters all sad and lit up when you saw him, though getting disappointed a second later when you saw him holding Mayday, it shattered his heart. Of course, having spider senses and the ability to be understanding, he approached you; feeling bad about your reaction. Furthermore researching and begging Miguel to see what happened in your universe, it made him sad to see you now-distant.

Regardless of what happened in your universe, he’s now always ‘bothering’ you; acting like the dad he once was in your universe. He’s taking you under his wing as he did with Miles. Whatever happened, he’s hoping he can fix it with you, wanting to get to know you better as you did with him in your universe.

You’re welcome into his home at any time, he always makes sure to make extra plates during breakfast and dinner, even if you said the day before you weren’t coming/or had plans.

Peter constantly asks if you have the designed bracelets to let you travel through universes; making you promise you’ll use them safely and appropriately.

And if you don’t? Well, he won’t be mad. Sure, he’s disappointed. But he’s proud that you did something you are also proud of. He’ll even state that he will take the blame if Miguel shows up at the front door.

The whole family adores you. Mayday loves you just as much as her dad. She loves clinging onto you, planting herself onto your head, and playing with your hair (if you’re fine with it!) and sometimes cries whenever she doesn’t see you. MJ always welcomes you with wide and loving arms whenever you come to visit; hugging you tightly when you come through the portal.

Seeing Peter and Mayday happy to see you warms her heart, which escalates to her opening up to you - treating you like one of her own.

Peter always goes out of his way to get things you enjoy, regardless of your whining of ‘I don’t need more things’. If he sees something in a shop, even in the window, he sprints out with more gifts he was supposed to buy and gives them to you the next time he sees you - making sure to add the Mayday participated in the wrapping paper!

He’s quite a chill parent considering he’s taking care of a baby and a teenager. While he’s gonna be watching out for you, making sure you don’t overdo your strength and aren’t damaging stuff; he would hate to get yelled at Miguel for things that are broken.

Peter always makes sure you feel loved, often giving you hugs and affection that you may feel uncertain about. He always reaches out, asking if he can do anything to help you and that you know he’s here to support you.

Though, Peter is quite a touchy person and if you prefer not to be touched and rather be shown affection through gifts, acts of service, or words, he’s happier to do that as his goal is to make sure you feel comfortable and safe in his presence.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

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dumbass-tumbler-cryptid · 2 months

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I often see people describe Spider as a neglected child. Do you think that is totally accurate? Would Norm and the other scientists have set rules and boundaries? If Lo’ak and Spider did something stupid together would Jake punish both of them? What would a scene like this look like?

Hello! I know you sent this question to other creators like a month ago. Sorry this took me so long to get to. I’ve been busy and I really wanted to give a detailed answer to this but I could just never make the time until now.

So short answer yes I definitely think Spider is a neglected child.

Long answer:

While I do believe some of his basic physical needs were met like food/water/shelter I don’t believe all his physical needs were met. First is just basic safety and while I don’t think his foster parents the McCosker’s physical beat him they definitely didn’t seem to care about him. From what we see in the comics and in the movie Spider was allowed to leave the base by himself at a very young age, like around 7-8 from the look of him. I personally take huge issue with this. I’d love to know how far away the village is from Hells Gate because maybe if it was super close, like you could see it from base kind of close, then I don’t think it’d be as bad but either way your letting a child, who is already super tiny compared to his huge surroundings loose in a jungle that we are told point blank from Jake’s narration is dangerous! Like it’s one thing to let your kid walk to a friends house to teach them independence but what parent would let their child do that if they could be potentially eaten by a tiger or trampled by a rhino. But that’s exactly what the scientist and the McCoskers are letting Spider do! That is just so negligent to me.

Next is Spider’s hair which I know we talk to death about for a lot of different reasons. So I actually have the exact same hair texture that we see baby Spider having so I can personally attest to it tangling easily when not properly maintained. After looking at 7-8 year old Spider i feel like I can pretty confidently say those aren’t dreads they’re mats. That’s what dry, unwashed, un brushed curly hair looks like after weeks.

From my research children typically need help with taking care of their hair until around age 12 and so the fact that his hair is matted tells me no body is helping him. And that could lead to issues down the line because matted hair can grow mold which will obviously make you sick. Even when we see Spider at 16 he hasn’t learned how to maintain his dreadlocks properly. They’re uneven, there’s unlocked hair sticking out all over the place. Really to me it looks more like he did his best to do something with his hair after all the childhood neglect. So yeah not putting in the effort to properly take care of a child’s hair when they’re to young to do it themselves is a form of physical neglect in my eyes

Now onto bigger issues.

We see from the comics that Spider’s foster parents just flat out don’t care about him. Other creators have gotten into that so I won’t go on about it. What I will go on about though is that I think it’s a failure of every adult that saw how neglectful and uncaring the McCosker’s where to Spider but did nothing. They did nothing because it was easier for them to do nothing. Sometimes foster placements don’t work out and when that happens you find an alternative until you find something that best fits the child. They didn’t do that! They did what was easiest for the adults and that was to turn a blind eye. I’m guessing after the events of the high ground comics that Spider didn’t even really have a guardian to answer to. He was basically just a ward of the rebels. I really do hope we get to see him interact with characters like Norm and Max post his kidnapping because from what we see in the movie Kiri was the only one worried about him. I think it would have been nice if during the scene where Jake and Norm are talking about Kiri’s seizer Jake asked if Norm had any new information about Spider, so we the audience would see that these adults do care about this kid. We don’t get that though.

And honestly I take huge issue with Jake’s treatment of Spider. I didn’t like it when I first watched the movie and never felt like he earned the “son for a son” line because again we never even saw him care about Spider aside from him asking Neytiri not to kill him which is beyond bare minimum. Reading the comics made me straight up appalled. My jaw hit the ground during the climax of the story when they are being chased by R.D.A, shot at, the forest is burning and Jake told Spider to turn himself in because he was slowing them down! And my poor boy just promised to keep up!

And I know Jake believes that they won’t hurt Spider because he’s just a kid but 1. Why would you even think that? Seriously what evidence do you have that the R.D.A wouldn’t hurt this kid. They are your enemy! They’re literally shooting at you as you speak! What makes you think they wouldn’t shoot Spider on site! Why would you even take that chance with a child’s life! Even if they do accept his surrender then what? Are you okay with this kid being sent back to Earth? Or being forced to live on the R.d.A’s base with little to no say of what happens to him? And 2. They do hurt him! A year later when Spider gets kidnapped Ardmore was willing to turn Spider into a vegetable to get the information she wanted! The only reason that didn’t happen was because Quaritch stopped him. This is just going to be an all me rant for a second but I could never leave a child behind like Jake did with Spider. I don’t care how tough you think he is he’s 16! And he was left in the enemies hands on an absolutely insane amount of good faith that they wouldn’t stoop low enough to hurt him. They fucking tortured him. And if Jake had at least payed lip service to being worried about Spider I’d be slightly more inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt and say there was nothing he could do to get Spider out of Bridgehead, he had to protect his others kids. But he doesn’t. He says that Spider’s a tough kid and that’s that.

So to wrap this up Spider was incredibly neglected. Based off of everything I said above it seems to me that the adults provided bare minimum necessities and then just let him run wild which is no way to treat a child especially when their young. We’d be here all day if I started up on the emotional neglect of this boy. I truly hope we get to see Jake treat Spider better in the next movie and that we get to see Spider interact with Norm and Max.

Those are my thoughts. If anyone disagrees I’d be happy to have a respectful conversation about it. I’m always curious to hear other people’s opinions. 💙

#spider socorro #miles spider socorro #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water

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lyssak09 · 1 month

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Hey can i ask a Yandere archangels hcs (separated) where their obsession is their soulmates?

Pronouns for the reader can be She/her

I didn't know exactly if you meant them in like a soulmate AU or something so I just did some soulmate AUs from the wonderful @creativepromptsforwriting. Some have different soulmate AUs than others. I really enjoyed writing this! Happy reading 💙

Yandere Archangels soulmates

Lucifer

Name & Telepathy

Archangels weren’t made for humans, so why the fuck did a name replace his vessel’s soulmate’s name.

When Lucifer took over Nick’s body he never thought about the soulmate thing his father put in place for you humans. Nick’s soulmate had already died so he didn’t really think about it.

Til he felt a burning sensation on his left arm one day, Lucifer saw Sarah’s name (Nick’s deceased wife) disappear and a new name replace it, Y/N.

You on the other hand were born with the name Lucifer on your left arm. Your parents couldn’t believe someone would name their baby Lucifer! When you were old enough to fully understand the whole soulmate concept you just thought your soulmate had cruel parents to name them that.

The thought that the Lucifer is your soulmate never even crossed anyone's mind.

Lucifer wanted to know why he had a soulmate, he did research and found nothing about archangels having soulmates. This must be another cruel joke from his father. Like he could ever have a soulmate.

He tried to ignore it and pretend nothing changed. But a part of him wanted to know if you were real or not. Lucifer thought about you more than he would ever like to admit. To the point you could hear his thoughts, sure you’ve heard of soulmates being connected telepathically but never thought you’d be one of those who are.

“Why the fuck would he give me a soulmate? I fell from heaven because of humans, I wasn’t his favorite anymore because of them! They’re a broken, flawed, and murderous species! It's so like him to make one be my soulmate” You heard someone say, you shot your head up, looking for the owner of the voice. Finding nothing you try to brush it off and continue with what you were doing. “I wonder if I’m her soulmate? Now that would be a plot twist.” You hear the voice laugh. You’re either going crazy, or you can hear your soulmate. “Imagine, having the devil as your soulmate! HA! ‘Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Lucifer’ that would be fun to see.” The voice cackles. Yep, you’re going crazy.

Hearing him in your head has caused you to think about the crazy person who’s your soulmate, causing the telepathic connection between you to reach him.

“I can’t believe my soulmate is crazy. He thinks he’s the devil! He’s gotta be in an institution or something.” Lucifer hears right as he’s killing a lone angel. He stares at the angel whom he has in a choke hold, “Did you say something?”. The angel looks at him like he��s nuts. “Yeah, you’re right, it's probably nothing. Anyways, enjoy your snooze fest wings!” Lucifer grins then disintegrates the angel. “The person who is supposed to complete me says he’s the devil. I mean, that's crazy! I hope he gets help before I meet him if I ever meet him.” He hears the voice again, Lucifer whips his head around but finds no one is near. He thinks before he gains a smirk, “I guess she is real. I have a soulmate.”. Lucifer laughs before looking up at the sky, “Thanks pop, this should be fun”

Since hearing your voice Lucifer is interested in meeting you now, there’s got to be a reason why God made you for him. He won’t admit it but he enjoys hearing you when you talk to yourself, he gets to learn more about you. And unfortunately, you are in fact interesting.

The more he learns about you/hears you the more he feels for you. Finding you has become a priority for him now. Lucifer finds your inner thoughts and monologues you do to be both stupid and adorable at the same time. He’s falling for you without meeting you, not that he would admit that.

Lucifer will finally figure out where you are because of your thoughts. He comes to stake you out, he doesn’t expect to be smitten by your idiotic and stupid pretty face. It makes him angry how he feels about you now, not only was he falling for you just from hearing you and your thoughts, but now he’s actually physically attracted to you!

Lucifer will secretly watch you, either he’ll do it himself or have a demon do it for him if he has matters to attend to. Watching you, your daily routines, and how you interact with people doesn’t help Lucifer in trying to find out why you’re his soulmate. But it does unfortunately cause him to fall for you even more.

He’ll ‘coincidently’ bump into you sometimes, just to interact with you, even if it's just for a second. Lucifer tells himself he does it to learn about you and your weaknesses, but he just wants to see you and talk to you.

It starts to become less of a coincidence that he’s almost everywhere you are and more of a very creepy purposeful thing in your eyes. To the point where you just straight-up confront him on it one day.

“Look Nick, I’m starting to think you’re following me everywhere and it needs to stop. If you have something to say then just come right out with it.” You scold the man, expecting his smile to fall, but no… He smiles wider. The man you call Nick seems like he’s about to say something but he stops himself. “I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N,” He says giving you a look you can’t decipher. You shake your head and continue walking home.

The next day you would in fact see him again. Not knowing everything is about to change.

You enter your living room and find ‘Nick’ looking around it, picking up and staring at the photos you have up. “What the hell are you doing Nick? Why are you in my house!” You scold the man and her turns to face you. “I’ve come for my soulmate” ‘Nick’ smiles then pulls up his sleeve a bit up and shows you his left arm, your name clear as ever on his arm. You feel a shock and panic course through you, you scramble to look at your arm, knowing that it has said Lucifer all your life, and it still does. Confusion washes over your face. “My arm says Lucifer, not Nick.” You replied, your eyebrows furrowing. ‘Nick’ walks towards you. “My name isn’t actually Nick babe, it’s Lucifer. And we’re meant to be” He smiles and then his eyes flash glowing red…

“I know why my father made you my soulmate, why he made us soulmates. The irony of me falling for a human, the very species that caused me to fall and no longer be favorited or accepted by him, is too much for him to not enjoy.”

He takes you to your new home, Hell. Lucifer will confess how he didn’t want you at first but you’re so special and different. How could he not fall for you?

Gabriel

Telepathy & Dreamy

Archangels don’t sleep, right? Then why is he dreaming?

Ever since he went to earth and became one with his vessel (who is unnamed) he blinks and then finds himself in some weird place. A dream maybe?

He’ll be in said place for however long then ‘wakes up’ back wherever he was, more like he blinks then is back in his house or whatever. Like he never left.

The times he was shoved into this world/place (?) would vary. He couldn’t do much in this place. Mainly watch what happens. The main constant in the place was a girl, which happens to be you.

As he witnesses what must be dreams, he learns more about you.

You’re the best part of humanity he’s seen in a very long time.

Gabriel will start doing research, finding out what he’s witnessing is in fact someone’s dreams, his soulmate’s actually. He learns this is a part of the soulmate thing his father put in place for you humans.

Why he’s yours or why you’re his, he doesn’t know. But he frankly, doesn’t care as to why. He just wants to know more about you.

Gabe will learn how to gain more control of your dreams, trying to manipulate them slightly, in hopes of talking to you.

Gabriel was quietly watching your dream from the sidelines. He found you so cute and adorable. Seeing what your brain comes up with as you sleep was also fascinating to him. He can’t wait to finally be able to interact with you and your dreams. Gabe is already picturing all the dates he’ll take you on in your dreams.

You didn’t believe you had a soulmate for a long time, unlike most people when you dreamt you never saw someone consistently in your dreams, aka your soulmate. So when you started to see this man in your dreams you didn’t really think he was your soulmate, just something your brain conjured up.

Until the man came up to you in your dream and spoke to you. You were happy to finally have a soulmate. The man you learned is named Gabriel and he was beyond giddy to finally be able to talk to you.

From then on when you would dream Gabe would change the dream, making it like dates. So you could learn more about him, don’t worry he already knows everything about you now 🙂

Gabriel doesn’t tell you that he’s an archangel or that angels and god actually exists yet, so when he tells you about himself he makes it simpler. “Oh, do I have siblings? Yeah, I have 3 brothers I was close to, the others I never really interacted much with since they were made way after me.” “Do I still see my brothers? HA! Hell no, not after the war- I mean the falling out between two of them.” “Am I close to my parents…..uhm no, my father abandoned us basically.”

But the longer this goes on he starts to show more of himself to you, his unhealthy feelings towards you. Becoming too touchy, sharing way more information about yourself than he should know, and getting irritated when you mention any male in your life.

Gabriel starts to come off too strong. “You people believe in marriage right? We should do that then. Secure the deal legally!”

He says that the 3rd time you talk to him in one of your dreams.

Gabe starts to push the idea of meeting you way quicker than you’d like. If you mention that he’s moving too quickly for you he’ll get upset.

“What-what do you mean? We’re soulmates Y/N! You were literally made for me! My father made you for me! We’re meant to be!” Gabe exclaimed in frustration. You give him a strange look. “What do you mean ‘your father’?” You try to question him, Gabriel lets out a sigh before explaining that he’s an archangel and his father is God, who happens to actually exist. ‘He’s crazy! He thinks he’s an angel? He cannot be my soulmate!’ you think before trying to wake up and get away from him.

He didn’t appreciate you cutting your time together short. Nor will he appreciate it when you start trying to avoid him by not sleeping. Not only is that unhealthy for you but you’re staying away from him! He hates that. It feels like you’re abandoning him, and we all know how he feels about that.

Gabriel starts searching for you, which isn’t too hard since he knows way too much about you. While you’re trying to find out if you can get rid of a soulmate, or at least keep them out of your dreams.

Unfortunately for you, he knows what you’re trying to do, luckily for him, he can hear your thoughts if he focuses on you. You don’t know he can do that as your soulmate.

After the fifth night of staying awake, you’re starting to get the sleep deprivation effects, such as hallucinating. Which will give Gabriel a huge advantage.

He’ll come for you after finally figuring out where you are in the world. It’s late at night and you’re too exhausted to fight against him or even realize that he’s real. You just think you're hallucinating when a man looking like your soulmate randomly appears in your room.

You honestly made it way easier for him to take you home, if you had slept more you’d be able to fight against him, maybe he wouldn’t have had to take you so quickly if you slept and met him in your dreams. But it's too late for it now. He easily scoops you up and takes you to your new home, his home.

“Welcome home, sweetcheeks”

Michael

Danger alert & name & telepathy

When Michael took over Dean’s body he didn’t expect to gain a soulmate, especially you. You were Dean’s soulmate, your name was on his left arm and everything. But after Michael was in his body for a couple of weeks he felt a weird sensation on Dean’s right arm, your name was starting to appear.

He was more confused than anything. Why would his father give you two soulmates? Why would he make you his soulmate in the first place?

Michael couldn’t understand why Chuck gave him, an archangel, a soulmate.

As much as he would have liked to ignore this, he couldn’t. He was intrigued. Not just because he somehow has a soulmate, but because you are his soulmate. His destined vessel’s soulmate is also his! That is fascinating to him.

So he’ll go through Dean’s mind to learn about you, even change up the imaginary bar he made to keep Dean preoccupied, to involve an imaginary you. He’ll learn more about you and why you’re so special to Dean that way. And it keeps Dean from realizing he’s locked away in his own mind/body for a bit longer.

The more he learns about you and sees memories of you from Dean the harder he falls. Who could see that coming?

Michael becomes obsessed with you, you’re not like other humans. Maybe that's why his father made you his soulmate.

He’ll also start to become overprotective, especially since he can feel when you’re in danger thanks to Dean’s soulmate connection to you.

You could be on a hunt with Sam or a dangerous research mission (to find a way to get Michael out of Dean’s body) with Cas, and be in danger till whatever creature was about to/was harming you all of a sudden disintegrates. But there won’t be a sign or a trace of what killed the creature.

You were pinned down by a vampire, trying to get it off of you while Sam fights his way towards you. This was supposed to be a simple hunt and research mission! “Y/N!” You hear Sam yell your name as he gets closer to you. “Y/N! I’m coming!” He yelled just as the vampire was going to bite me. I close my eyes and wince, but the weight against me disappears. I sit up a bit, All that's left of the vamp that was on me is some ashes. Sam and you look around trying to see who or what saved you, but find nothing. Not noticing Michael hiding in the shadows of the warehouse with you guys.

He won’t get to meet you for a while since you’re off helping Sam to get him out of Dean’s body, and he’s busy running around Earth.

Michael has the upper hand though. You and Sam don’t know that he can hear your thoughts, because that's not a typical soulmate connection to have. You don’t know that you’re his soulmate yet either. So whatever plans you and Sam come up with are easily foiled by him.

Michael likes to try and implant thoughts into your subconscious using the telepathy he’s gotten as your soulmate.

He might convince Dean to work with him by manipulating him and telling him you can be his forever if he just works with him, Michael will even supply that apple pie life Dean wants.

Michael will still be in control more often than not if Dean agrees though. He’ll let Dean control his body much more often than he currently is if works with him.

And how could Dean resist? Not only would he gain control of his body back, but he’d also get his soulmate and the dream life he wants, and he’d be able to finally act on all of his dark feelings for you while being able to blame it all on Michael.

You still only have Dean’s name on you though. This will infuriate Michael once he finds out. How can you be his soulmate but he’s not yours? It makes him angry and jealous. Shouldn’t he be meant for you just like you are for him?

But it doesn’t matter, as long as you’re with him then everything is fine.

He is extremely manipulative. During one of your attempts to get him out of Dean’s body, Michael takes note of how much you love Dean and how you’re willing to do anything for him. He wants you to feel like that for him.

So one day after another failed attempt to save Dean Michael makes a deal with you. Give yourself up and you’ll have Dean back. You want to immediately agree but why does he of all people want you specifically to give yourself up?

You demand to know why and he smiles. “Because I want my soulmate by my side.” His smile turns into a grin as he pulls up his sleeve on his right arm, revealing your name on it. You gasp, your jaw unclenches, going slack, and you scramble to look at your left arm. You’re afraid that his name has taken Dean’s place but find it hasn’t changed. “As much as I would love to explain it, I don’t know why my name isn’t on your arm when we’re destined to be together. But that doesn’t matter right now. Will you come with me or not?” He leans towards you as he crosses his arms. You pace in thought for a moment before looking at him, shoulders slumped and frown. “You promise you’ll let him go? Like vacate from him, find a new ‘vessel’ or whatever?” You question and nervously fidget. He licks his lips quickly before gaining an even wider grin, “Yes. I’ll leave his body.”, Michaels lies right through his teeth. He’d be stupid to give up his true vessel, the one that makes him even more powerful than he already was. But you don’t know this, so you reluctantly agree, thinking you’re saving Dean. No matter how much Sam screams at you to not say yes, that we’ll find another way to save him, you can’t hear him over the thought of Dean being free again. “I’ll go with you.”

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere headcanon #miss blue writing #ask lyssa #yandere supernatural #yandere soulmate au #lucifer spn #yandere lucifer #gabriel spn #yandere gabriel #michael spn #yandere michael #supernatural #spn #soulmate au #yandere soulmates

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ronwestbreeze · 1 year

Text

TO YOU , WORLDS AWAY : PART TWO : CHAPTER TWELVE

pairing: jake sully x fem!reader

summary: in which it is the year 2159

word count: 2.4k

author's note: hello hello! TYWA part two has arrived! now updating is going to be a bit different for this. i'm thinking posting each chapter once a week will be what I will do from here on out that way I can have time to write future chapters whilst you all read the one's I have already written! just remember, don't demand me to post, it doesn't help with motivation or make me want to keep writing it! anyways, thank you for the patience! and without further ado, part two!

AO3 | prev | next

“I keep having these dreams. About this girl. Every time I saw her, it felt like I knew her for years. Like she was my best friend in the whole world. And I couldn’t imagine a life without her.”

“Tell me about these dreams.”

“Well…they always start with fire and…”

“What’s wrong? Baby girl, what is it?”

“You’ll think I’m weird, Daddy.”

“I won’t, I won’t. I promise.”

“When I wake up, I’m sad. Like I’ve lost someone. And it feels so heavy…Daddy, I hate it!”

“Sssh, ssh, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’ve got you, alright? I’ve got you.”

“I miss her, Daddy. I miss her so much.”

“Miss who, baby girl?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t even know her name…”

Year 2159

It had been five years since the RDA were exiled off of Pandora and Dr. Chloe Parker was still trying to find her footing on this planet.

Before the battle, she had been well into the late Dr. Augustine’s Avatar Program. Trained and studied learning to control her own avatar and then using her time to explore all of Pandora’s plants and herbs. And it was interesting, learning about all the medicines here, the potential use for them.

Then the battle at the Tree of Souls happened. Killing dozens of wildlife, many humans and Na’vi alike. It was a sad day to say the least. But after Jake Sully took over as the clan leader for the Omatikaya Clan and exiled the RDA off of Pandora, things began to change for the better.

Dr. Chloe had been one of the humans allowed to stay on Pandora, mostly because she didn’t contribute to the war that struck the planet and because Dr. Max Patel vouched for her and some of the other scientists and avatar volunteers. Now she had spent her time continuing to explore all of Pandora, working with the Na’vi in different clans to study their ways of medicine and perhaps teach them some of the stuff humans do, even though she knew they would probably never use it.

For the past few months, Dr. Chloe, and her small research team, took their avatars and their next journey to the Olangi Clan. A very nomadic clan that worked very closely with the Omatikaya so their home wasn’t too far from the former’s. Their clan leader, Akwey, had allowed them to stay and start their research there as long as they didn’t pose a threat to his people and were respectful of the lands and their ways. Which wasn't a difficult task, especially when there were no more military men flanking the planet anymore.

But as of recently, Dr. Chloe had been requested to retrieve the Tsahik of the Omatikaya Clan, Mo’at since the Olangi’s Tsahik had died in the battle against the RDA. So, instead of researching like the rest of her team, she had been made into a messenger, going back and forth from each clan speaking of something called Eywa…Dr. Chloe wasn’t really too spiritual to care much of who this Eywa was. But if it made the people happy and content, and kept them from shutting down her research, then Dr. Chloe would take one for the team for now.

On the other hand, she wasn’t entirely too comfortable leaving her very first patient alone so much. A patient very important to her research.

When Dr. Chloe found Mo’at, she was with her daughter, Neytiri if she could recall correctly. Dr. Chloe never really had a conversation with the woman—mostly because of her obvious distaste of Dr. Chloe’s presence—and today was no different. Once she arrived in her avatar form, Neytiri hissed and walked away. One of her children, a young boy, followed after her closely.

“Why has Akwey sent you now, Chloeparker?” Mo’at greeted her while crushing up what looked like herbs in a small wooden bowl. Dr. Chloe’s Na’vi wasn’t perfect but she could understand a lot of it after years of listening to both Dr. Augustine and the people talk expertly in it.

“An elder died yesterday.” Dr. Chloe informed her, stuffing her hands into her shorts. “Akwey wishes for you to perform the ceremony.”

Mo’at hummed, not looking up from her work. “One day, he will have to come to my daughter as she will be the next Tsahik of the People. And I will finally rest.”

“Let’s hope that day isn’t soon then.” Dr. Chloe commented with a thin smile. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your daughter doesn’t seem to like me much.”

“You are Sky People. Of course she doesn't like you.” Mo’at stood with the bowl and finally looked at Dr. Chloe. “I am not too fond of your people either.”

Dr. Chloe could understand that in a way. But she was a bit tired of being grouped with the people that tried to destroy Pandora and take it over. Then again, she really couldn’t blame them. If she were in their shoes, she’d hold a grudge too. It didn’t matter if they were the same or not. That anger, that resent, it was uncontrollable and rightful. Dr. Chloe could do nothing but shrug.

“Touché.”

“Mmph.” Mo’at then handed her the bowl. Dr. Chloe took it, surprised at the sudden gesture. “I understand you are a doctor among your people. This can be more useful than whatever technology you Sky People insist on using.”

Chloe held the little bowl delicately but frowned, “The technology is not all useless, you know. It does help sometimes.”

“Sometimes.” Mo’at pointed out. Dr. Chloe tried not to roll her eyes.

There was small movement behind Mo’at and Dr. Chloe did a double take. She hadn’t realized they weren’t alone until Mo’at had stood. It was a little girl that didn’t really look like Na’vi. Actually, when Dr. Chloe looked at her closely, she realized the little girl looked awfully similar to someone.

Before she could wonder just who the little girl reminded her of, her earpiece suddenly beeped, alerting her that one of her team members was calling her from back at the Olangi Clan.

Dr. Chloe excused herself before answering her earpiece, “This is Dr. Chloe—”

“You need to get back here fast!”

She blinked in confusion at the urgency in her fellow researcher, Simon's voice, “Why, what’s happening?”

There was a pause, “…Okay, don’t get mad but we decided to take her out of cryosleep—”

“WHAT?!” Dr. Chloe covered her mouth when Mo’at gave her a disapproving scowl and the little girl watched her curiously. She cleared her throat and lowered her voice before continuing, “Why the hell would you do something like that—she’s not even stable enough to take her out—”

“Just let me explain!” Simon interrupted with an exhausted sigh. “We connected her to the machines we’ve been working on for months ever since we first started working on her, remember?”

“Those aren’t even ready yet!” Chloe hissed into the earpiece, walking out of the tent where Mo’at and the little girl still were. “Simon, what the hell were you thinking—”

“It worked, Chloe.”

She went quiet. Her eyes wandered aimlessly around the forest, unsure if she had heard him correctly. When Simon called her name again she finally responded in a hushed whisper, “You’re not shitting me, are you? Y-Your saying—”

“It worked, Chloe, it worked.” She could practically imagine the growing smile on his face as he said this. “She could wake up at any moment now. But with her condition, it’s not exactly permanent and I don’t imagine she herself would be happy with the results, but they are supporting her. They're keeping her alive until we know how to deal with the heavier wounds.”

This was definitely a development. This had been something she had been working on for two years now, hearing that it worked, on a person no less? Chloe couldn’t help but start packing up her things and leave.

“I’ll be right there! Don’t do anything without me!”

And with that, Chloe rushed back toward the Samson she had arrived in, ordering the pilot to take her back to plains.

There was a lab within the tall trees the Olangi Clan lived in. Chloe had it built when she first arrived in the plains. Even though she technically wanted to build one in one of the trees, having a lab hanging from a tree wasn’t exactly the safest position. So, they went with having it on the ground.

Plus, if they had done it in the tree, then the lab wouldn’t be as spacious as they needed it to be.

When Chloe arrived back, she came out of her link bed with Simon waiting for her.

“How is she?”

The two walked side by side with each other, leaving the link room and walking down the long hallway. Simon carried a holographic pad in his hands as he spoke, “She’s stable, still has yet to wake up, but things are looking good so far. The doctors want to start on the severe wounds right away.”

“How exactly bad are these injuries?” Chloe found herself asking. Really, when they first saw the patient, they had already decided to quickly put her in cryosleep with how badly injured she was and freeze her wounds before it became any more lethal to her body. Chloe hadn’t exactly seen it for herself but she’d always kept hearing about how bad it was.

Simon frowned, “Third and second degree burns, a broken rib, and a her lungs might've collapsed, I'm not entirely sure.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, I hear she was a lot worse and the doctors managed to work on some of the less lethal burns, but she’s not exactly out of the woods yet.” Simon sighed as they stopped in front of the closed door. “We have twenty minutes with her before the doctors get to work.”

Chloe frowned, staring at him incredulously, “What should we say to her if she does wake up?”

Simon shrugged, “Tell of the situation, maybe fill her in since she’s missed basically five years of her life, and…I don’t know, comfort her the best we know how?”

“Comfort is not either of our strong suits, Simon.”

Simon rolled his eyes before finally opening the door.

What did death feel like? Was it this bright? This cold? Were you supposed to feel so heavy, so numb as if you couldn’t feel your body. Maybe your consciousness was floating above your body. There were stories like that, you remember reading about people who have died for a few seconds and were able to see their body outside of themselves.

Okay, maybe you weren’t actually dead. You may not have known what it felt like but you were pretty sure you weren’t supposed to be able to recall a memory as if it were another day. Then again, your body didn’t feel like a ton of anvils had fallen onto it and was pinning it down, preventing you from moving.

You hadn’t realized your eyes had been open until a shadow came into view, blocking some of the light above. Your vision was blurred, really you didn’t know when you had woken up or how long you had been staring up at the ceiling. Yes, that was definitely a ceiling.

Either hell was some bright room or you were somehow still alive.

Muffled voices echoed into your ears. You hadn’t realized, at first, that the voices were coming from the shadowed heads above you. It was like using your ears for the first time, like you were a newborn baby. Hell, your eyes felt like they hadn’t been used before.

Soon, you started registering the voices.

“You think she fell into some sort of vegetative state?” This voice belonged to a woman.

“I don’t know. It’s a possibility. Coming out of a cryosleep can be a little much.” This voice belonged to a man. Neither of them were familiar to your groggy mind. “We might need to get the doctors.”

Soon your vision began to clear.

“Wait, hold on…” The woman above you whispered. She was staring directly down at you, eyes wide with wonder. “I think she’s…”

Your eyes then moved to the second head, the man, when he came back over and appeared in your vision. And like their voices, they were both unfamiliar to you. Even in your foggy mind, you could not recall a single memory where it included these two strangers. Wait, maybe the woman. Back before you had stopped going to Hell’s Gate, you might’ve seen her a few times in passing.

Wait.

Hell’s Gate.

The bombs.

The ship crashed.

You should’ve been dead.

“Dr. L/N?”

The woman’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, you refocused your gaze on her and she grinned excitedly. “You can hear me? Understand me?”

With great difficulty, you nodded. Or maybe your head shifted slightly similar to a nod, you didn’t really know.

“Holy shit.” The male muttered in amazement.

The woman continued grinning, “Welcome back, Doc.”

Before you could ask her where you were, before you could question who these people were, it suddenly hit you.

And it really hit you. Worse than a pile of anvils. More like an out of control train that crashed right into your body and dragged you along the way.

That was the type of pain that struck your body once your senses had begun coming back. This pain was unimaginable. It was unlike anything, unlike any pain you had ever felt in your short life.

This was worse. This was what death felt like.

You didn’t remember much of what happened after your chest jolted forward from the shock of the pain. All you saw was the two that had been standing over you, rushing away, shouting for what sounded like help. And in the next few seconds you kept blacking out a few times. The world went in and out. Every sound clashed together around you. Most of the pain, you realized, was coming from your waist, hell, just your entire upper body.

You wanted to scream. But all that came out of your mouth was choked gasps, barely any words or cries. You were crying. You were crying. Yes, you were sure of it.

There was a sharp prick against your neck.

And in the next second, it was like you were falling out of the world and back into the blackness.

Falling.

Eventually, you would hit the ground…

And Jake Sully would wake up.

#to you worlds away #jake sully x reader #avatar jake sully x reader #avatar jake #avatar jake sully #jake sully #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water #atwow #avatar fanfiction #avatar 2 #finally!!!

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preservationofnormalcy · 11 months

Text

[I am in a nature preserve in rural Louisiana. A small ranger station-like structure in the middle of the wetlands welcomes me through chain link fences as my driver signals his approach, and as I exit my vehicle, a man steps out of the station.

He is heavy-set, tall, a little overweight but in that working-man sort of way where his strength is evident. He’s wearing a white labcoat over a colorful shirt and jeans, with messy hair and old school mutton chops. I can’t decide if he’s going for a vintage look or just doesn’t want to deal with his facial hair. Huge hands clap together once as I walk up to the building, and he smiles.]

Meghan] Mr McCollough?

Jethro] Please, please ma’am, call me Jethro. Please, come in.

[The first room seems typical of what I would expect a station in the middle of the swamplands to look - a cot, couches, radios and locked long glass-paneled cabinets with guns. A large metal door on one end leads me into the next room, and this one is different. Computers, rows and rows of filing cabinets, and haphazard piles of paperwork on a laboratory benchtop that yield to clean, colored tape-zoned areas holding glassware, boxes of “Vacutainer” tubes, plastic racks. A well-used benchtop centrifuge in the sun-bleached cream and baby blue colors of equipment from the 80s holds tubes of separated liquid – clear on top, a strip of white, and deep red at the bottom. Another metal door on the opposite side leads further into the building. He gestures to a somewhat empty table with a chair on either side.

Jethro’s accent is slight but noticeable, quiet but gregarious. He doesn’t sit yet, but fumbles with a kettle and a hot plate.]

J] Don’t get many visitors out here. Pardon the mess. Tea?

M] Oh. Please, actually.

J] Yes, ma’am. The people above my head tell me you’re here to ask questions.

M] That’s right. I saw the, uh… immunization posters in the Virginia site I toured.

J] Oh, sure. That’s been routine for decades, now. Since they were developed in the 50s. Lots of progress, of course, but always lots to do. Half the issue’s the paperwork, you know. But, uh, yeah.

M] Does everyone get immunized?

J] If I had my way, yes. That’d be the right way to do it. But no, it’s only really required for so-called high risk zones, that’s what they decided.

[He gives me a wry smile over his shoulder.]

J] This here’s a high risk zone, ma’am. But…you won’t be here long enough for it to matter.

M] …here’s hoping. Umm. I had a list of questions.

J] Top of the list is probably “Jesus H, they’re real?”

[He laughs briefly at his own joke.]

M] …my work is more about the efficacy and efficiency of the Office’s divisions, departments, and programs. But yeah, kind of.

[He pours the hot water into two teacups, and hands me one, sitting on the opposite side of the table. His cup looks comically small in his large hands.]

J] Get the feeling you’ll be asking that a lot in the next months.

M] I do too. Let me see… what is the objective of the… Abnormal Virology Department?

J] So our mission statement is about the research, control, and prevention of diseases – viral diseases specifically, but other stuff comes up, but y’know, that’s another story – uh, diseases that fall outside the Office’s definition of “normal,” and our big goals hopefully are curative or preventative treatments for those diseases. It’s a tall order.

M] And… lycanthropy is a virus, like the flu?

J] I mean, as much as any virus is like another. Each one’s unique, even the flu subtypes, but yeah. If I may use some jargon,

[He pauses with a hint of eagerness for affirmation before continuing.]

J] It's a lysogenic virus, so if you get infected, it integrates into the host genome, more like, uh, I guess herpesvirus is one most people would know. Once you get it, you got it for life because it hides in your DNA. Like herpesviruses too, you have lytic phases too, where it becomes active again, it emerges out of the genome based on cues from environmental pressures or host conditions. Like the phase of the moon, you know, which is kind of unique. When it’s not actively causing disease, when it’s just sitting in your genome at these sequence specific integration sites across the chromosomes, it also screws with normal gene regulation. The sites it sits down, you get dysregulation of normal transcription, you start growing more body hair, eyes change color. Where the virus integrates is a little different across host genetic backgrounds, think like ancestries; do you know SNPs?

[He clears his throat.]

Anyway, that lysogenic, passive phase is why we need the boosters, it’s laying low, immune cells don’t see anything to protect against, and it preferentially hides out in memory B cells, some lymphocytes, and that also kind of messes up a normal immune response. Which is why you have the immunoglobulin in the shot too, but that’s getting into the weeds. Because if you don’t have a way for the immune system to stop it quickly when it decides to jump out of the genome again, then, of course, you have the active phase, which… you can guess about that.

M] How successful would you say the treatments are?

J] It’s pretty good, especially given this stuff is almost the same as we were using mid-century. If you have a healthy immune system, if you’re vaccinated at least a few weeks before exposure, so you have your standard immune repertoire ready to go, and then they’re exposed – assuming the inoculum isn’t, you know, that can be pretty high sometimes – then they probably won’t “catch it,” so to speak, it’s neutralized and doesn’t integrate into the genome, so you don’t have a permanent case of it. We can also suppress symptoms with treatments for those with especially bad cases. Treatment’s kinda heavy, with the administration and the side effects; not like you’re just popping a pill under your tongue; but once it’s taken hold, there’s no, uh, no real cure.

[Jethro is quiet for a moment, taking a glance out the window as he drinks.]

J] … listen, ma’am. I’m biased. I got a personal stake in all this. I’m kind of a lab guy, sure, but sometimes I go out there and actually… you know. I’m the boots on the ground here too. And I don’t carry the big guns like the guys in Security do, no, I’m here giving out shots to kids and families. There’s communities in this country, whole towns out in the swamps or up in the hollers that are majority-infected. They live with it, they make do. And they have a chance at that, at life, because of us. Hard to quantify, of course. If you’re looking for hard numbers, I can try and find ‘em–

[He gestures to the filing cabinets.]

J] If you got a week or two.

M] We can… coordinate records later. But we’ve successfully eradicated things like… you know, smallpox. Can we eradicate things like lycanthropy?

[He gives me a strange, wary look and picks up a plastic knife from the table, oddly stirring his drink. I take a sip of mine.]

J] I’d be careful, talking like that. Lotta people don’t just think they’re sick, they- we’re talking about people. People with a condition, sure, but the minute you start talking about eradicating is when we start having camps again.

M] … again?

J] There’s rural areas in this country that the Office hasn’t been in for decades. We aren’t welcome.

M] Can I ask what happened?

[Jethro takes a deep breath.]

J] In ‘55, the United States rolled out its polio vaccine program. Of course, the Office used the infrastructure, hustle and bustle of the whole thing as a cover for our own lycanthropic treatment programs. We, and when I say “we,” I mean the Office in general of course. I wasn’t even a pup then. But a couple Office research groups, the Wagner lab, they’d done deep research into the condition, validated a few hypotheses, and they were ready to pilot the production of a vaccine. They just needed plasma. From infected hosts.

M] … I think I see.

J] Yeah. Yeah, back then infected folks were basically ignored unless they were in legal trouble. Legal personhood hadn't been extended to lycanthropes yet.

M] Legal personhood?

J] Ask Ferd about that when you get back to Virginia. Unfortunately, that plasma was taken from… people who didn’t volunteer. Inmates at first, murderers. But scaling up collection, then it came from people who stole some cows, and then people who were even just accused of things. When the Wagner people showed the shot was actually working, the Office needed a lot more to even think about rolling it out everywhere it was needed, and people weren’t really volunteering, so…

[He sighs.]

J] We shouldn’t have been surprised when a lot of communities then rejected us after that. Word travels fast, and the symbol–

[He taps the OPN crest on his badge.]

J] –became the mark of the Beast. Figuratively. It’s been decades getting to the point where we can help people, and pardon my bragging, ma’am, but it’s people like me who are the reason why we can. Part scientist, part… social worker, I guess.

[The phone rings, and Jethro slides over on his rolling chair to answer it. He seems immediately worried, and after a moment of conversation he hangs up and rubs his face.]

J] Real sorry ma’am, gonna have to cut this short. I know you had a long trip. Maybe I can meet you somewhere that ain’t so out of the way.

M] Oh. That’s okay, Jethro. Um. How’s next Saturday?

[He rolls over to a calendar on the wall. July 2021.]

J] No… no, I’ll be needing a day or two off ‘round then. For the… weather.

M] …I think I see. I’ll call you, we can finish over the phone.

J] Probably for the best, ma’am. If you’ll excuse me, I got an emergency downstate. Small outbreak just confirmed, got some of that social work to do.

M] Should I be worried?

[He grins, throwing his labcoat onto a chair and pulling a dirty jumpsuit out of a pile.]

J] Hell no, ma’am. We’re professionals. Ain’t gonna be any rowdy gators causing any trouble.

M] …gat–

J] I trust you’ll see yourself out, ma’am.

(Buy the poster here!)

#HUGE thanks to my good friend for editing the virology stuff #and giving his perspective #office for the preservation of normalcy #werewolves #lycanthropy #lycanthrope #interview

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euno11a · 4 months

Note

Can I get mafiajimin and pregnant fem fiancé being worried and gentle with her with soft smut

oh my god so many requests! I love them!💕💕

Warnings: smut, pregnancy, pregnant sex, Jimin being a total softie for reader🥺, fingering, squirting

18+ ONLY

“Come on! Only one orgasm? Pleaseeee?” You’d been begging Jimin to make you cum for a while now. Now, before you start questioning, you’re currently 9 months pregnant. And Jimin has been the most careful about you in that time more than ever before in your relationship. But his one rule was ‘nothing that could harm our little mochi.’ So as the months went on, you only got hornier and hornier.

“No! Jagyia, we said nothing that could harm our little one!” He tried to protest, it’s not that he found you disgusting or didn’t want to make you feel good, he was just extremely nervous about hurting the baby somehow.

“I did some research! You won’t hurt me or the baby! If anything, it’ll release endorphins that will be good for us!” Closer…

“Where did you read that from?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“This medical website! I promise, it will all be okay!” Closer…

“…fine. But this will be the only time until after the birth. Got it jagyia?” Bingo!

You nodded your head eagerly, giving him a heated kiss. He grabbed your hands and guided you over to your couch, he didn’t want to admit it, but he was definitely extremely horny from having to wait nine months. He slid down your sweats and panties, showing off your glistening pussy. Jimin but his bottom lip, gently touching your swollen and sensitive folds. You moaned a little, “M’sorry…I didn’t think you’d actually agree so I didn’t have time to shave…” you admitted slightly embarrassed.

“Jagyia, I get to touch your pretty pussy after nine months, I could care less if you were shaved or not.” The comment made your cheeks turn a bright red.

He started slowly, gently rubbing your clit in circles, spreading your slick around, making you a mess already. When he felt like you were ready, he pressed his fingers into you. Being pregnant had its quirks! Extra sensitive pussy! Your hips jumped at the foreign feeling, making your thighs shake a little from how good it already felt. He took care of you. Slowly pumping his fingers into your pussy, reaching in deep to reach your g-spot. When he found it, he wasted no time in abusing it. You could feel his fingers tickle the inside of your pussy, the pressure point being overly sensitive. It made you see stars. He used his other hand to rub your clit again, applying more pressure to both. You could feel the build up of your orgasm…it was close, but different…he sped up his pace, and before you knew it, you were squirting. You moaned loudly and lifted your hips, Jimin kept his pace going, fast with lots of pressure. It seemed as if it would never stop, but when it did, Jimin pulled out his fingers and licked them clean.

“Maybe I should get you pregnant more often if it means you do that” he chuckled at himself.

#bts #bts army #bangtan #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut #mafia smut #mafia au #mafia #mafia jimin #jimin x reader #bts jimin #jimin smut

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mooodyblue · 5 months

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Heyyy I haven’t been on here in so long but I literally stalk your acc bc I love love love your writing and you were always so nice to me. Anywho! I was wondering if I could request a fluff piece w/ big daddy Elvis? I have endometriosis and I was wondering if you could write something where the reader is really struggling during her period and Elvis takes care of her. Thank youuu 💗

thank you! ❤️ i wasn't fully aware of what that all entailed, so i tried to do my research. hope this is okay!! thank you for the request <3

pairing: 70s!elvis x afab!reader

wc: 711

-> masterlist

there's always a specific time during every month that you dread more than anything, and it's the forever–non–ending week of your period. everyone's periods were different, some dealt with pain, some didn't. you, on the other hand, were met with the most god, awful crippling pain every single month.

elvis knew how badly you struggled with your period, he always tried to give you all the comfort he could even if you tried to brush it off. when you first got together, it wasn’t something he fully understood. he knew what periods were, of course. but yours was much more different.

he wanted to take you out to the memphian today since a few movies had come out that he wanted to see, maybe bring a few of the guys along with him. the sight of you crippled up in bed made him change his plans immediately and he wasted no time cancel. today would be all about you and your comfort instead.

“baby?” he said softly, shuffling over to the bed and crouching to meet with you eye leveled. you tangled up in the comforter, curled up with a tired look on your face said enough. “that time of the month?”

a soft mhm left your lips, your own arms wrapped securely around your stomach.

“poor thing.” he muttered, bringing his hand up to brush the hair out of your face. “y’wanna jus’ stay in bed all day?” another mhm came from you in response. “not a problem at all, honey. y’need anything?”

talking was so tiring in the moment, you didn't even want to move. “‘just you.” you mumbled.

he chuckled, pressing his lips against your forehead. “i know, i know. you’ll get me in just a minute, baby. im gonna get ya a few things ‘n i’ll come back up here alright?” you whined in response, clutching at your stomach at the shooting, throbbing pain. he frowned, “oh, baby. alright. i’m gonna hurry.” he kissed you one last time before standing back up and heading downstairs.

elvis reached the bottom of the steps, eyes scanning around graceland as he mentally wrote himself a list of things to bring upstairs. he had pads upstairs, the good ones. he had the money, he wasn’t going to buy you cheap anything. oh, but duh, a heating pad. he grabbed one out of a cabinet before heading to the kitchen, rummaging through for snacks or anything that may make you feel better.

“you need something?” he heard from behind him, meeting eyes with mary.

“oh, uh….well…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “it’s that time of the month for—”

“i’ll bring ‘em some tea and some food.” she smiled, patting his back. “what they need right now is a massage and your presence, i’ll take care of things around here.”

elvis let out a sigh of relief, “appreciate ya. don’t wanna do the wrong thing.”

“trust me, you won’t.”

he headed back upstairs with a hot water bottle and a heating pad, walking into his bedroom where you were still huddled up in bed. “alright, darlin’. mary’s comin’ up with some tea, i’ve got a whole lotta heat and this water bottle is about ready to burn my hands off.”

you sat up with a groan, wiping at your eyes as you pouted at him, “elvis–”

“i brought a heating pad too. y’think double the heat might work on those cramps?” he asked, ignoring you. “i have extra pads in the bathroom, if you need more—i’ll have someone make a run ‘n get you some. y’need painkillers? i got the strong—”

“elvis.”

he looked over at you, raising his eyebrows like he did something wrong.

with a hot water bottle ready to be against your back and a heating pad on your lower stomach, you pouted at him. “you didn’t need to do all of this….”

“but, i did. i want you to be comfortable, baby. i hate that y’all gotta go through that every month.” he frowned. “is there something else i can get you? just say the word ‘n i’ll go get it.”

you thought for a moment, “well….you did forget one thing…”

“oh!” he got ready to head out the bedroom again, “what is it?”

“you.”

#elvis x reader

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littlespoonevan · 1 year

Text

catch us in the mirror and it looks a lot like love

6x11/6x12-ish spec (except not really), hurt/comfort, 1.2k

if you saw me use those lyrics as a fic title before no you didn’t!!!!!!! i couldn’t not use another place by bastille for this fic ok it was a necessity. i have been tagged in an abundance of wip wednesdays and seven sentence sundays recently with nothing to show for it (but please keep tagging me ok ily 💖) but nothing like a lightning strike to galvanise me into writing hurt/comfort again!!!! so here is some gentle buddie in the hospital bathroom 💛

Buck holds onto the sink with one hand as he tries to shrug his hospital gown off his shoulder. He definitely shouldn’t be out of bed unsupervised yet; he’s only been awake for a few hours and the doctors – or one of his friends – will probably rip him a new one if they find out. Still, he was unconscious for a day and a half and the nurse had told him his scar will probably be all but gone by the time he wakes up tomorrow.

She’d said it with so much reassurance – as if, by tomorrow, no one would ever physically be able to tell what happened to him.

He doesn’t know how to explain that he wants to see it. That he wants the physical proof, even if he only gets it for a day.

Because…because he gave his bone marrow to Daniel and it left so little an impression on him that he’d never even known it had happened. Because he donated his sperm for Connor and Kameron and there’ll be a baby at some point but Buck still won’t have anything to show for it.

Because he keeps giving so much of himself away that sometimes he expects to see an entirely different person when he looks in the mirror.

And at least, just this once, it won’t feel like he’s making all the pain up in his head.

Eventually, he manages to get one arm out of the gown and then the other, letting it pool around his waist and pressing his hips against the sink to hold it in place. It’s mostly a pointless endeavour but he’d like some modicum of decency if someone does come in. At least they’d left on his underwear.

He stare at himself then, at the way the mark starts at his neck and spiderwebs out across his shoulder towards the centre of his chest. Towards his heart.

He’d researched Lichtenberg figures once, after he’d read a book where a character had survived a lightning strike. It doesn’t prepare him for seeing it in person across his own skin. Lifting a hand, he touches it carefully with his index finger, following the path of the mark with a delicate touch. It doesn’t hurt, not really, but that could just be the cocktail of pain meds he’s on.

He drops his hand once he reaches the end of the mark where it peters off between his ribs but he can’t make himself look away from it.

It’s the same place where Eddie got shot, he realises after a beat. And then he wants to laugh because if there was ever an emotional trauma he had nothing to show for, it was that one. Maybe that’s what this is. Some kind of reminder that something irrevocably changed in him that day and he’s never been the same since.

Talk about the universe screaming at you.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Eddie appears in the doorway behind him. He doesn’t say anything as he leans against the doorjamb but his eyes meet Buck’s in the mirror and Buck’s knees suddenly feel a little weak.

He’s still reeling from the dream he’d had while he’d been sedated. It had been the perfect life – everything he’s always said he wanted – but Eddie and Christopher weren’t there.

It’s that, he thinks, that has him blurting out, “We match,” without thinking.

Eddie’s reflection blinks and Buck watches as he pushes off the doorframe and steps further into the room. The bathroom is tiny, just a toilet and a sink and a shower, and Eddie stands so close to his back Buck thinks if he let go of the sink Eddie would catch him.

“What d’you mean?” Eddie asks, voice so soft it makes Buck’s chest ache in a way that has nothing to with the lightning strike or his cracked ribs.

“The scar,” he explains, wetting his lips against the sudden dryness in his mouth. “It’s the same shoulder as your scar from-“

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He doesn’t need to when Eddie’s eyes immediately flicker down to where both of their shoulders are lined up, one behind the other. And Buck knows that one patch of skin on Eddie’s shoulder like the back of his hand – has pressed down on it with enough pressure to keep him alive, has covered it with dressing and cleaned it to prevent infection, has rubbed ointment on it to stop it from scarring too bad. Has touched it just because he wanted to remember Eddie’s alive.

“What are we measuring here, Buck?” Eddie catches his gaze again in the mirror, the corner of his mouth twitching. It’s different from the last time he asked that question – tense and frustrated in the back of an ambulance. Now, it’s quiet and fond and filled with that nudging kind of gentleness Eddie always uses on him when he feels fragile.

Everything is different from the last time he asked that question, really.

Buck doesn’t quite manage a laugh but the breath that puffs out of him could be one on another day.

“Nothing,” he says. “I just…”

“I know,” Eddie says and Buck is dying to know what he’s thinking, is dying to ask what Eddie’s been thinking while Buck was unconscious.

“I missed you,” he confesses – because his dream is still clinging to the corners of his mind and he can’t explain the way it’d left a gaping hole in him until he’d finally had Eddie at his side again when he’d woken up.

Eddie visibly startles at the words and Buck watches the way he silently tries to pick them apart before he speaks.

“You were unconscious,” Eddie points out finally.

Buck shrugs, ignoring the way his shoulder twinges. “Still missed you.”

Eddie’s expression softens and he seems to sway forward without realising, until the fabric of his sweater is brushing Buck’s back. “I missed you too,” he murmurs.

Buck gives in then, lets himself let go of the sink and lean back until his back connects with Eddie’s chest. He hardly has to move an inch.

Eddie’s hands land at his sides instantly, as if to steady him, but all he does is let them rest there. Eddie’s temple brushes his own and Buck closes his eyes, feeling something akin to peace settle over him for the first time in too long.

He doesn’t know how long they stand like that but, eventually, Eddie pats his side, his voice low at Buck’s ear. “Come on. Let’s get you back to bed.”

Buck opens his eyes and finds Eddie staring back at him in the mirror. Wordlessly, he lets Eddie help him pull the gown up over his chest, covering the scar once again. Eddie takes hold of him then, one hand at Buck’s elbow and the other clasped in Buck’s as they make the slow walk back out to the hospital room.

And when Buck is back in bed and Eddie’s thumb sweeps across the back of his hand right before he lets go, Buck thinks the perfect life his dream had tried to sell could never have gotten this right.

#buddie #buck x eddie #911 #911 fic #season 6 speculation #but more like wish fulfilment lol #my fics

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steviewashere · 7 days

Text

Love at First Trim (Chapter 1/???)

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Implied/Referenced Child Abandonment, Implied/Referenced Break-Up Tags: Not Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Alternate Universe - No Supernatural, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Set in the 2000s, Mild Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Older Eddie Munson, Older Steve Harrington, Original Child Character, Single Parent Eddie Munson, Hair Stylist Steve Harrington, Protective Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Flirting (But it Sucks), Eddie Munson has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Dialogue Heavy, Tags May Change, Rating May Change

Read on Ao3

Single Parent Eddie Munson, my beloved.

Fair warning, I know nothing about hair care or cutting hair or dyeing hair. All of my research comes from Google. And also, I am aware that trimming Eddie's hair probably would've worked better if it was wet. It is not. Oops.

✂️—————✂️ “You wanna do what to your hair?!” Eddie shrieked.

He couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe the gall that his daughter had. She’s recently turned thirteen—the age of discovery. The age where she’s finding her footing, her style, her everything. And, Eddie gets it. He so totally gets it. Eddie was thirteen when he shaved his head the one and only time, when he began to make his battle vest, when he snuck off to a bus towards Indianapolis and saw Judas Priest in concert. So, yes, he gets what she’s doing.

“Dad,” his little girl (not so little) sighs. “I want to dye my hair. Like my friend Sarah. She’s got the most beautiful head of hair right now! Purple, Dad. Her hair is purple.”

“No—no, I got that,” he sighs himself. “But Ella, my little munchkin, my sweet angel baby; you don’t want to dye your hair with something, y’know, a little more neutral first? What if you absolutely hate having color?”

Ella shoots him a glare. So lethal, Eddie swears he feels the bullet enter his chest. “So you were cool about shaving the sides of my head. And the possibility of me getting my nose pierced as soon as I turn sixteen. But dying my hair red is where you draw the line?”

Okay, when she puts it like that, Eddie does sound a touch too protective. But his daughter’s head of hair is one of her crowning features. She’s got her dad’s curls, but her mom’s gorgeous sandy blonde hair. Maybe Eddie and Ella’s mom didn’t end on the best of terms—not that there was an ending to be seen, she had just up and left one day without a trace—but even he can admit that the sandy blonde is something other-worldly. Every single Munson has dark brunette hair, no abnormalities, no others. It’s difficult, even a bit frustrating, to what his little girl grow and change and differentiate herself. He’s excited for, absolutely, but he’s also such a papa bear by fault.

He rubs at his temples, tension building and building beyond belief. There’s no chance he’s winning this. “Okay, listen,” he mutters. Where she’d been incessantly tapping in the kitchen, several feet away from the carpeted living room where he’s stress slouched on the couch, she now falls deathly silent. Eddie takes a deep breath. “I will agree with you on this,” he states slowly, “on a few conditions.”

“I’m listening.”

“Your hair will be dyed with something like Manic Panic—not box dye. And you will do it at an actual salon. You won’t let a friend do it. I’m not going to do it. And you certainly will not be doing it yourself, do you understand?” He looks up from his lap and into the little window over the kitchen counter. Where she looks back. The ‘tude apparent on her features. He fights the urge to roll his eyes.

Ella continues to stare when the silence stretches. And then she heaves an enormous sigh.

“Little lady, do not sigh at me,” he firmly scolds. And for a moment, he feels like Uncle Wayne. He suppresses the shudder at what that means for him. He’s not even forty yet, he shouldn’t be acting like his way too old uncle. “Do you or do you not understand me?”

Relenting, Ella grumbles, “Fine. We’ll go to a salon.” She rounds the corner into the living room. Eyes him for a beat before settling next to him on the middle cushion. Her left hand reaches up to his hair, tugging at the ends. His hair isn’t the best it’s been—though there isn’t much of a contest, not since he was fifteen—it’s a little wiry, with several inches of dead ends, and already greying at the temples. But it’s still got the length to his shoulders and the bangs that curl inwards right above his eyebrows. Some definition, even. It’s still objectively good, for somebody who doesn’t always care about their hair.

She tugs again. “Mm, you should dye yours too,” Ella murmurs.

He startles and whips his head to her. ‘Absolutely not,” he adamantly refuses.

“Oh, c’mon, Dad,” she whines. “It doesn’t have to be your whole head, but it’d be like a friendship bracelet or something. Just get a streak and match with me. Please?”

“Wha—Hold on. You, my thirteen year old and angst-riddled teenager, wants to match with her dear old dad? Who—keep in mind—is nearing forty years old? Who you called an old fart the other day because he was reminiscing over ‘80s cartoons and explaining how CDs seem like a waste of time?” He incredulously asks. Eyes widening further with each word. His hands reach out and squeeze her cheeks, lift up her arms, twist her head left and right. “Who’s sitting on my couch right now? This certainly can’t be my kiddo,” he murmurs.

She rolls her eyes, swatting him away. The attitude on this girl is unbelievable. He almost wants to go over to the landline and call up Wayne and apologize for how he acted as a teenager. But he just quirks an eyebrow, cross his arms over his chest, and waits. Ella shrugs. “I just…I just want to do it. And I know I can be a brat or a butthead or whatever, but I do actually care a lot about you,” she admits quietly. “And…”

Then, she goes silent. Contemplative and squirmy. As if she doesn’t want to say the next part aloud.

“And?” Eddie searches.

“And I hear you sometimes talking to Grandpa Wayne about how you…You don’t know how to ‘connect’ with me. You always sound so sad and then you sound even sadder when you bring up how Mom…Before she left, how she could get me in an instant. And I just. I don’t know; I don’t want you to think there’s this distance between us,” she murmurs. “This is me offering a bridge, I guess.”

He swallows back the golf ball sized lump in his throat. Blinks rapidly. Eddie didn’t think she heard him, considering it was always so late at night. When all the neighborhood kids in Hawkins were asleep. But he realizes teenagers are going to be teenagers, staying up past their bedtime, eavesdropping. At least she isn’t sneaking out through her bedroom window like he did.

Something in him breaks, though.

She’s thirteen and too adult for his liking.

“I’ll do it, kiddo,” he agrees gently. “There’s a salon around the corner. We’ll go there this weekend, promise. Now, go do your homework before you make your old man cry.”

“You’re not old,” she grumbles, standing. “You’re just stuck in the past,” she states, retreating to her room. And then the door clicks behind her and Eddie’s left to stuff his crumbled pieces back inside, in the jar of his heart.

——— Come Saturday, he’s got two appointments made for them. Back to back. At first, he was unsure of who should go first. Out of safety, he had wanted to, but then Ella was just a bit too eager. And he knew that making her wait would be pointless.

He’s nervous, though, even as he parks in front of the salon. With the little plastic bag from the Sally’s down the street. The little tubs of bright red Manic Panic, bleach, and toner knocking against each other. Not once in his entire life has he thought about dyeing his hair or messing with it beyond shaving, trimming, and washing it. Has never considered the idea that his daughter would be someone who’d be interested in changing up her hair, too. All this to say he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“We’re going to be late for our appointments if you wait out here any longer,” Ella, oh so helpfully, reminds from the passenger seat.

“Are you sure you want to go first? This is a big change, you know. And maybe you’ll see the dye in my hair and realize you actually don’t—“

The passenger door opens and slams behind after her. He’s left in the driver’s seat to gape momentarily. Staring at his daughter impatiently waiting on the sidewalk. She gestures to the glass doors of the salon. The Pandora’s box of doors—a portal to the world of Harrington’s Salon. (Which—where has he heard that name before?) Ella’s arms point firmer at the open sign and the doors again. “Let’s go!” She yells at him through the windshield. He has no other option but to just get out and follow her in.

Immediately, the smell of aftershave hits his nostrils. That and hairspray. The lights are sort of bright. And the chairs are each aligned to their own mirrors. What hits him hard, however, is the person that emerges from the back room. Their hair is the first thing Eddie notices. Puffed up, held in place, yet soft and bouncing with his steps. Then his face—creased with smile lines and fitted with hazel honey eyes, a straight triangular nose, and pink pouting lips. Moles on his body, a few random freckles to match. His clothes are neat, but not stereotypical douchebag neat. Pressed blue henley overtop a white undershirt of sorts, tucked into a pair of worn in light wash jeans, and some dirties older Nike Cortez’s.

But most of all:

It’s Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington from high school. From a time when they were barely acquaintances, just stranger that caught each other staring; with malice, Eddie was never sure. Except, he’s older. Grayer throughout that beautiful head of hair, where his highlights used to be. His smile lines obviously deeper.

The moment of realization hits Steve, too. Instead of looking upset to see Eddie, though, he looks immeasurably happier. He smiles wide and inviting. Steps further towards the front counter and ushers them over.

“So, you two are my twelve and twelve-thirty appointments? The…Munson’s, right?” Steve asks brightly.

Eddie splutters for an embarrassing moment. Finally, though, he takes a deep breath. Answers, “Yeah, uh—Yeah. It should be under Edward, though? Or…it might be Eddie. I actually don’t remember which name I gave, I—“ He stops himself when he catches a quick glimpse of Ella’s face. Her eyes wide and an eyebrow quirked. Hip popped and arms crossed over her chest. “Yeah, Eddie Munson. And she’s Ella. She should be the one scheduled first, though for a full head dye job? We brought our own supplies, as I was told over the phone. Except, I dunno if I’ve got the right bleach and toner? I’m actually not sure if…I don’t know what I’m doing, honestly—“

Steve chuckles. His eyes squint with the stretch of his ever glowing smile. “It’s alright, Eddie. As long as you have the dye you’d like to use, I’ve got bleach and tools. Now…the question is, have we ever used bleach before? Or am I working with virgin hair?”

Before Eddie can even get the chance to take a breath, Ella is responding for them. “This is my first time. Dad’s been really strict about me ever using hair dye. It was a reeaalll hassle to convince him to do this. And an even bigger one to convince him to get a matching streak.”

“Okay, well, hopefully with my handy skills, the convincing won’t take as long. If you’re ready, Dad and Ella, I can get you guys situated in my chairs. I’ll start out with doing a test strip of bleach on your head, and if that ends up being a fail, then I can get started with using color immediately,” Steve explains. His voice stays light, despite essentially doing customer service. But he begins to walk slowly back towards one of the further most chairs, gesturing for Ella to sit down. She does, a soft smile plastered to her face, and then Steve ties an apron around her shoulders.

He follows hesitantly, sitting down in the adjacent chair, turned to watch. Hands over the bag of supplies when asked and waits with baited breath for Steve to survey his work.

“Hm,” Steve grunts. “This all looks good to me,” he murmurs. “I’m honestly so relieved you guys went with Manic Panic. This stuff is such a good first time dye and it’s not boxed. You would not believe the amount of botched dye jobs I’ve seen in the last decade or so all because of boxed colors. Honestly, those companies should be sued or something.” Eddie feels something stir low in his belly—something mixed with enamor with how Steve is genuinely excited to explain and do his work. Never, in a million years, would Eddie expect to see them here like this.

“Dad insisted on the Manic stuff. I almost made my friend smuggle in some boxed hair dye in my school’s restroom,” Ella confesses, a little breathy and nearly amused. She doesn’t look at Eddie at all, but he hopes that she feels his disapproving glare like daggers.

When there isn’t a response, Eddie drifts his sight over to Steve. Though, he isn’t concerned, instead finding him hyper-focused on his craft. He’s carefully grabbing a lock of Ella’s hair between his fingers. Checking it over to make sure it’s well hidden, in case this doesn’t work out. His tongue is poking out between his pouting lips, eyes squinted on his task, and eyebrows furrowed for the challenge. Once he finally finds a good enough chunk, he whispers, “A-ha!” And clips it to stand-out.

“So…” Eddie starts the conversation again, dragging out the word. He pats his hands down on his thighs. “How long does a test strand take?”

“For best results,” Steve mutters, now looking over the container of bleach, “I like to wait forty minutes. Just to ensure that there really isn’t any sort of reaction to the product. Longer means safer and that means I can sleep at night knowing I didn’t give a kiddo a bald spot or a chemical burn.” And then he looks over to Eddie, flashes him a quick and easing smile. He steps away for a moment, returning with an apron dutifully draped over himself, and begins mixing the product with something Eddie didn’t even grab.

“What’s that?” He asks.

Steve hums. “It’s developer. Don’t worry, it’s the same brand as the powder solution you brought. I can tell—“ He sets his little bowl of product down on the nearby counter. Faces Eddie as he puts on some latex gloves. “—That you’re nervous. I’ve been doing this for years, I know what I’m doing. Honed my craft real well.”

Eddie juts his chin up once in silent approval. And then he just sits back and watches.

This guy is an artist in his craft. He’s really undersold the whole “I’ve been doing this for years” gig. Steve is so gentle, so careful with Ella. He’s quick, efficient. Yet focused and tedious. It’s in the way he paints the mixture onto her hair, holding the hair between his fingers, how he really rubs the bleach in. In the calculated cut of foil he settles around the strand. How he puts all the utensils away, cleans up his equipment, hangs his apron up, and then comes back over to assess.

“Alright,” Steve sighs, over checking the foil. “We’ll keep that on there for forty minutes, my timer’s been set and is ticking. And then we’ll come back, rinse that out with cold water, and see how the hair reacted. If it worked, we can go ahead and bleach the whole head, same regime, and tone it afterwards.”

“And the color?” Eddie asks quietly.

“Hm,” Steve grunts again. He sticks his right hip out and places both of his hands on the waistband of his jeans. “I think,” he states slowly, “I think we should wait just a day or two for color.” He looks over to Eddie, eyes considerate and his face thoughtful. “Since her hair is new to this kind of treatment, we should take things a little easier. Usually, I’d go right in with the color after bleaching, but again—Virgin hair.”

“What about Dad?” Ella butts in. “His hair is also new to this kind of stuff.”

“Oh?” Steve asks curiously. “Really? I thought you would’ve done something funky to your hair, considering your whole…The whole aesthetic you’ve had for, what seems like, years.”

“Well,” Eddie murmurs sheepishly. He shrugs. His cheeks are heated and his stomach is flipping with all of Steve’s attention on him. “I’ve always really loved how my hair’s looked. Reminds me of my mom, so.”

Steve’s gaze softens. Something like remembrance flashes over his face before settling back to a gentle thing. “Well, I’ll make sure to be careful with your hair, too,” he promises softly. “Yours should actually be done today. Considering it’s only one little strip, nothing too extravagant. I’ll test your hair with the bleach, too. Let me just head in the back and prepare another bowl of product for you. Be back in a jiffy.”

It’s weird having Steve Harrington be nice to him, considering the status he held in high school. But Eddie supposes that when time passes and circumstances change, you have to, too. And he thinks it’s accurate to say that Steve’s a changed man, with how gentle he is with the people around him. Even a person he may have never known, never gotten along with. It’s all the better when he comes back into the main part of the salon, gloves on, bowl of bleach in hand, and the softest of smiles adorning his features.

Eddie doesn’t stand a chance. Whatever inevitable heartbreak comes from this, at least he’ll know what Steve’s fingers feel like in his hair.

Ella leans over before Steve makes it to them. Whispers, “Dad, close your mouth. You’re practically drooling.”

“Wh—Huh?” He dumbly says.

She smacks his knee with the back of her hand, punctuating each word with another slap. “Stop. Ogling. My. Stylist.”

“I can do whatever I want, miss ma’am. I am an adult, mind you.”

Her eyes roll so hard, he fears they may just pop out of her skull. “Can you at least wait until after my head is bleached to do your weird flirting?”

“It’s not weird, Ells. Besides, even if I were flirting, I wouldn’t have the time. My hair’s gonna be a quick thing anyway.”

She goes to reply, but Steve sidles up beside her. Sets his bowl on the counter and looks to Eddie once more. “You ready to test this in your hair?” He asks, voice polite.

He nods like a loose spring. “Uh—Yeah, yeah, sure,” he squeaks out. “Just…Just a little nervous, is all. Like you said. Y’know. Nerves.” His palms are sweating like they may just be able to put out a damn fire. And he wonders, for the first time in ages: When did I get so out of practice? Eddie’s seeing this guy for the first time since their mutual senior year, a time when they weren’t even friends, and he can’t keep the humiliation out of his flirting. If it’s even flirting, that is.

“Hey,” Ella speaks up, “would it be alright if I sit in the waiting area with some headphones in?” She gives Steve a polite expression, but when she makes eye contact with Eddie it’s more of a: I’m Saving Myself the Embarrassment of This Reaction. He should’ve known that she’d pull something like this, she typically does if Eddie’s having a good interaction with somebody. How he didn’t spot her walk in with her Discman and some headphones, he’ll never know. But there they are, being gestured to in her lap, and her eyes gleaming softly for Steve to be tricked by. “I’ll make sure to avoid the foil in the back,” she tacks on for good measure.

And it works on Steve because her little gags always work on new people. He shrugs, smiles softly, and gestures loosely to one of the waiting area chairs. “I mean, knock yourself out. Could always sit here, but uh—“ He crouches down and leans in close, dropping his voice to a faux whisper. “—Between me and you, your dad is being a little embarrassing, huh?”

“Hey!” Eddie squawks.

Ella is amused, to put it lightly. She grins, holding back a snort. Eyes gleaming with something like mischief now. “Yeah,” she sighs as if she’s actually put out. “Guess I should just dump him on you for now. But you know what you’re doing, so it should be fine. Volume will be up, so just tap me or something.” When she walks past Eddie’s chair, he knows she’s fighting the urge to stick her tongue out at him.

He does it back anyway. Because he’ll always be the bigger child, if he can help it.

Steve pats his shoulder, his hand lingering. “Don’t worry,” he says, voice normal again, “I don’t actually think that of you. I think…You being nervous about both of you guys is actually kinda sweet.”

Eddie snorts. “You don’t have to save face, man. She got my attitude, she’ll use it to her advantage. If she can ‘charm’ you into dealing with me, she will. Just the ways of a teenage girl with a dad ‘stuck in the past’, so she put it a few days ago.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll still be careful. Do you want me to get started on that test strip?”

He sighs, untenses his shoulders. “Actually,” Eddie begins. “I’ve been kind of eyeing myself in the mirror the couple of times you’ve gone into the back. And I was wondering if I’d be able to get a little trim? I’ll pay you for the extra work, of course! But I…God, it’s been a while.”

Above him, Steve hums. His eyes roam, calculating. He peels off his left latex glove and plucks some of Eddie’s dead ends. Thumb working over the wiry hair. “I can, of course I can. How much are you willing to take off? Might be a good…Hmm, two inches?”

“Where would that put me length wise? Sorry, I just don’t know much about hair. Let alone how many inches I’ve got to work with.”

For a moment, Steve smirks. Yeah, yeah. That’s what she said, Eddie thinks. He gently swipes up a good couple inches from the same strand he’s been working with. And his face goes serious and contemplative again. “Think that would put you right at your collarbones,” he muses. “And, if you really are nervous, I could always bleach and dye your streak when she comes in next.”

“Really?”

Steve nods gently. “Yeah. I’m practically a hair wizard, I can do anything. Which includes doing your strand on top of her full dye.”

Eddie sighs, relieved. His heart’s been rabbiting behind his ribs for the better part of half an hour. It definitely doesn’t help that his high school crush is also his stylist today. Doesn’t help that he’s making nerd references while being gentle with Eddie’s little silent freakout. But gosh does it sound nice to not go head first into this. “Please, Steve,” he murmurs, “I just need a trim today. Nothing else.”

Fingers rake from the top of Eddie’s head down to his shoulders. Steve’s left hand resting heavily on his shoulder afterwards. “Let me go ahead and dispose of the product mixture, alright? Just get yourself comfortable and I’ll take care of you.”

If something awakens in the butterfly storm of Eddie’s stomach, he’ll never say. But he does indulge Steve’s request. Leans back fully into his salon chair. Spreads his legs a little to make sure he doesn’t need to readjust himself during the trim. Closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. And by the time they’re opened again, Steve is back with an apron for Eddie’s clothes. He lets him drape it over silently. Relishing in their slow, mingled breaths. And the brush of Steve’s warm fingers to Eddie’s bare neck.

Steve is warm, solid, and soft. His face is immeasurably cute. Tongue poking out, eyebrows furrowed, squinting at the ends of Eddie’s hair. He breathes gently by Eddie’s ear. Fingers soothing and careful. Whenever they get caught in a tangle, he just quickly detangles it, doesn’t scold Eddie or sigh at him (like some other stylists have done in the past). For that, Eddie’s even more thankful than he thought he could ever.

What really makes him nearly squirm is when Steve bends down in front of him. Putting one another at direct eye level. He pinches the ends of Eddie’s bangs. Snips them. Combs them, even. Up close, Eddie can see how deep Steve’s smile lines really go. Where his crow’s feet are beginning to develop. The fine stubble above his upper lip. Every little strand of slivery grey in his hairline. Up close, Steve’s even more gorgeous than Eddie remembers.

“You do these yourself?” Steve asks softly, his voice deep and warm.

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs back, “been doing them in my bathroom since…Probably since freshman year of high school, honestly.”

A thoughtful grunt-hum. “They’re really good for somebody who doesn’t do this professionally,” Steve whispers. “I mean, I assume you aren’t a stylist.”

Eddie snorts. “God, no. I know how to take care of my hair, for the most part, and Ella’s. That’s all I do. I’m actually a mechanic nowadays.”

“Oh? You don’t do music anymore?” Steve asks, now standing back up, walking behind Eddie’s chair. His fingers rake through the bottom of Eddie’s curls again. And then he grabs the comb inside of his apron.

Eddie stops completely in his tracks. Frozen in his chair. Cheeks flushing. “How do you remember that I do music?” He asks quietly.

It finally hits Steve, too, what he said. His fingers halt and his cheeks blush and his eyes go wide where they meet Eddie’s in the mirror. “Uh,” he eloquently states. “I—Um. My best friend and I used to go to your bar shows? I-I thought you were really good.”

“Steve Harrington thought my crummy bar shows were good?”

“Well…Yeah? You were the best of the best when it came to the music lineups every night.”

“Every night?!” Eddie asks incredulously. “You were in the Hideout watching my stupid bar shows and I never saw you once? Are you pulling my leg right now?”

“No? Of course I’m not, Eddie. I used to see your Corroded Coffin posters in the halls and around town every once in a while and I thought, y’know, what if I stopped in there once? And so I did and you were really cool—I mean really good. I was just intrigued, man. I really wanted you to make it big,” Steve rambles. His fingers are still in Eddie’s hair, not stopped anymore, mindlessly combing. And his whole face is tomato red.

And even though he’s a little bit embarrassed, he’s still beautiful to Eddie.

Eddie blinks, taking in the information. Licks his lips, noticing the way Steve’s eyes follow the action. There’s tension here, Eddie can discern. The kind, he isn’t sure. “You should’a said hello, man. Maybe I would’ve done a private show for you.”

He spikes with pride at Steve’s continued flush, as it colors down his neck. Steve looks down to Eddie’s hair. Gently brushing both of his hands, palm and all, from the scalp to the ends. There’s a small smile on his face, graceful and pleased. “Maybe,” he murmurs. “But I doubt it. I mean, I was an asshole, Eddie. To people like you. Even if I did change by the time we shared a senior year, you probably would’ve…It doesn’t matter.” He goes back to snipping at Eddie’s dead ends. Focused on his task. “If I were a nicer guy, we could’ve been friends.”

At that, Steve goes silent again. Combing out the trimmed, loose hair. Even as it isn’t necessary. Even though Eddie knows he’ll be going home and showering after this. But he hums. “We can be friends now, though,” Eddie states quietly. “You seem like a good guy, Steve. Even if I don’t know you all that well, not yet, I can just tell that you are. You’re good with my little girl, you aren’t being an ass about me being nervous. You’re good, Steve. We should hang out.”

When he’s finally done, Steve stands at Eddie’s right side. Scissors and comb dutifully put away. His hands are on his hips again, looking down at Eddie with a quizzical expression. “You’d really want to be friends with me?”

Eddie shrugs. “Sure, why not? I live just around the block. And I’ve got a lot of free time after work in the week. Let’s make a statement—Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are friends.”

He gets this sweet little grin on his face. Eyes squinting with the action. “Yeah, okay,” Steve huffs. “Sure, I want to be friends. Maybe take you up on that private show some time?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Eddie says, a little too quiet. A little too real. But he smiles. And knows, looking at Steve’s matching face, that he’s entirely fucked.

✂️—————✂️ Taglist is Open for this fic! (Comment to be added, please <3)

#stranger things #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #original child character #single parent eddie munson #hair stylist steve harrington #mild angst and hurt/comfort

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potol0ver · 9 months

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Wine and paperwork.

(Lucifer angst.)

a/n; did I make my head cannon/theory about Lucifer into a fanfic? Yes, yes I did.

Warnings; referenced abused but not explicit, talk about mental health.

How many times has he pushed himself like this? Truly only god knows at this point, but that’d be if he even still watches over his first virtue-turned-sin. Lucifer like most nights found himself leaning over paperwork, gaining a headache because of the legal talk.

He skimmed and noted what he needed to do before signing and moving to the next paper. Again, skim, sign, next paper, skim, sign, next paper, skim-

”And I believe he should be knocked down a title because he isn’t worthy.”

Lucifer froze for a moment, of course this was just a recorded statement someone made against Mepho because they didn’t like him. Lucifer knew that. It was just a simple argument that had nothing to do with him.

Nothing…

And yet he’s yet he’s taken back to when he was an Angel… those words forced him to remember something just on the edge of his mind, something he would’ve liked to forget about forever.

He was in a big room, with another Angel… Micheal maybe? Hard to say but they had six wings and were tall like him. They we’re speaking to someone he couldn’t see.

“I believe he should be knocked down a title because he isn’t worthy. What arch-angel let alone virtue lets something like this happen father?”

That’s right… he was in trouble… but for what? He couldn’t remember… he couldn’t remember the punishment either… but he could remember being uncomfortable… being in pain… being violated by it… and something in his mind cracking because of it.

That’s when he met that voice, he pushed it off at first. Not wanting another voice other than his own in his head. Especially one that seemed to know nothing but anger and being defensive.

He hated when its words accidentally came out instead of his own, he hated that he couldn’t remember small areas of the day because it was more in control than he was… he didn’t like having this alter.

Lucifer messing up enough to be punished was few and far between, but the punishments were always harsh. In order to deal with the mental aftermath of them, he overworked himself. When that wasn’t enough, he found himself getting another baby brother even though he already had two… then two more… then a baby sister….

He loved all of them, he did. He even came to terms with the voice in his head that wasn’t his. He treated them all like siblings, they all helped him more than they realized in their own way.

He never felt a similar feeling from when the voice entered his head… until the fall…

It felt like a part of him got ripped off, that cracked part of him finally broke off, the voice got torn from him…

That’s how Satan was born…

Of course, since being down in Devildom things changed their relationship, they never talked about the times when Satan was his alter. Lucifer supposes that’s why he hates being compared to him…

Satan was stuck too long in a body, name, and mind that wasn’t his, and he didn’t want to be connected to it anymore. It does hurt in a way, but he gets it, he wouldn’t want to live in the shadow of someone else too. Besides he knows Satan deep down cares for him like he cares for Satan, there’s no need to feel this sadness… this emptiness now…

Even if Lucifer wanted to deny it, they’d see through his facade if they knew the whole story. Lucifer got used to Satan being in his mind, he got comfortable with it and even leaned on it at times. Now they’re two completely different people, creating a hole at the back of his brain that won’t fill.

Lucifer did his research once things settled in Devildom, about why the hell Satan formed and how that was possible. He searched every magical being book, every spell book, even old fable books to see if anything seemed familiar. None of it did, not a single story in any book seemed correct enough to fit what happened with Satan.

He was in his psychology class in RAD when he finally got his answer, DID, Dissociative Identity Disorder…

He got a damned disorder because of what he went through in heaven, and it was his powerful magic that caused all of this…

After that day Lucifer was stalked by a shroud of realization, he thought it’d bring relief but no it was like a looming shadow. It forced him to realize what the hell was happening to him in heaven, it now made sense why he felt dread thinking back to then even though he couldn’t remember a lot, his damned pride didn’t let him think anything was wrong.

He tries his best to forget it, reading, music, instruments, and even overworking himself like how he avoided his problems back then.

So now Lucifer just sits in his study, with wine in one hand, and a pen in the other, obsessively focusing on his paperwork when he knows it can be pushed off. He won’t though, he needs something mind-numbing to forget what happened…

Hopefully, the wine can help him forget his problems that brought the avatar of pride to tears of fear when thought about to long.

a/n; surprise!!! Fan fic out of nowhere after being radio silent.

I’ve had this theory for SO LONG about Lucifer and Satan, and I need to know y’all’s opinion on it. As a person with DID I thought about this concept as a joke except now I don’t think it’s a joke anymore-

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me night bringer #obey me nightbringer #obey me otome #obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me angst #obey me Lucifer angst #obey me Lucifer #obey me Satan angst #obey me satan #satan obey me #Lucifer obey me

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heaven-s-black-box · 6 months

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Jealousy pt.1- Miyuki x gn!Reader

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Recovery date: February 14th, 2022

Description: I really loved your hcs for Miyuki and Chris! Could I request an angsty thing (hc or scenario, whichever you’re comfortable with) about Miyuki getting jealous for whatever reason and distancing himself from his s/o? Maybe a bit of fluff at the end so it doesn’t hurt too much 🥲🥲🥲

Notes: Recovered in conjunction with research @curlyzensei, we thank them for their contribution. The second entry is available here.

Word count: 1 175

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Seidou was a little far from home for Miyuki, but distance meant nothing to him if it meant he could play baseball. Besides, it wasn’t like there was any reason for him to stay nearby. He didn’t have friends. That was what he’d told himself when Rei approached him while she was scouting Chris.

They had a strong reputation and it was a chance to play on the same team as Chris, to go head to head for the catcher position, it sounded perfect. It was an all around challenge against people who loved the sport just as much as him.

“You're late,” Y/N huffed, swinging their legs from the porch of Miyuki’s house.

Miyuki had one friend, he realized as he stood at the bottom of the stairs, and he was going to leave them.

“Sorry, I was busy being scouted by Seidou,” he smirked.

“Seidou? The school in Kokubunji?”

Miyuki opened the door and let the two of them in.

“Yup.”

“Maaaan,” Y/N whined, “that’s so far!”

“It really isn’t, you’re just a baby,” he shrugged, pulling things out to make dinner. “What does it matter how far it is anyways?”

“It means I can’t see you all the time! Who’s gonna stop you from getting into a fight? Or apologize when you talk back to upperclassmen? If you go to Seidou you have to promise you won’t keep getting into fights!” They scowled, leaning over the counter.

“Hey! I don’t always get into fights… And who said I was going to Seidou anyways?”

It was a rhetorical question, they both knew he was going.

“I mean if you don’t take the offer I’ll never speak to you again.”

“Aww, you really care about me don’t you?”

“Shut up,” they sighed.

---

“It’s cold, hmph,” Y/N ducked their head further into their scarf. “Why couldn’t he pick a warmer day to come back.”

“Because he’s insufferable and any other day would be too nice,” Mei shrugged, handing them a warm drink.

“Thanks, and it’s not nice to call people insufferable.”

“Wa?! But you call me insufferable all the time!”

“No, I say you’re being insufferable, there’s a difference.”

“Y/N how could you?” Came an over dramatic gasp from the other side of the platform.

The two looked up to find Miyuki posing in mock offense as he watched Mei and Y/N bicker.

Y/N giggled, waving at him, and yelled, “Welcome back Kazu-chan!”

“You’ve replaced me?” He called as he approached them, “And with Mei no less.”

“Ha, you should have joined us at Inashiro. See what you’re missing,” Mei slung his arm around Y/N’s shoulder, “your two favorite people.”

“Mh, calling you one of my favorite people is like saying Sawamura’s not an idiot.”

“Wa-hey! Y/N-chan telling him to stop bullying me!”

“Sawamura… Sawamura… Ah! Seidou’s southpaw!”

The three began to leave the station, heading towards a small restaurant for lunch.

“Aw, you’ve been watching my games,” Miyuki cooed, knocking into Y/N.

“No, not really.” They shrugged. “I just heard about him from the team, apparently he nearly spilled all your secrets to Mei."

Miyuki's smirk dropped slightly, "You haven't been watching my games? But you've never missed one of my games!" He whined.

"They've been watching my games because I'm their favorite!" Mei cheered, pulling them closer and leaning his head on there's.

As they approached the restaurant and Y/N filled him in on their academic news, Miyuki found himself growing increasingly annoyed as Mei filled in the blanks to stories he'd yet to hear.

“Kazuya?” Y/N called, waving their hand in front of his face once they sat down. “Kazuya are you alright?”

“Mh? Oh, ya… I was just thinking about how busy you sound, makes sense why you haven’t come to visit me.”

Y/N frowned.

Miyuki looked to the empty space beside them so he didn’t have to see, and noticed Mei was gone.

“Where’d Mei go?”

“The bathroom, but don’t change the subject. Is something wrong? It’s not like I’ve been avoiding you or anything, you just don’t get out of practice until late. Nothings stopping you from calling me.”

They watched him intently as he continued to avoid eye contact.

“It’s nothing, you're right…”

---

“Your girlfriend break up with you or something?” Kuramochi asked, leaning against the wall next to Miyuki. Miyuki shot him a quick glare and swung his bat a little harder than necessary. “Boyfriend? Partner? Significant other whose contact you make googly eyes at- ya, I see that. We all see that,” Kuramochi said, not moving even when Miyuki leveled him with a glare and dropped his bat.

“What makes you think something bad happened?” Miyuki scowled, ignoring the last half of Kuramochi’s comment.

“Because when you came back from last winter break you were scarily happy and… nice,” Kuramochi shuddered. “And now you’re all sulky and it’s in the team's best interest that you get out of this as soon as possible. We don’t want a repeat of the fall.”

Kuramochi pushed off the wall and turned to leave when Miyuki called out to him.

“Hypothetically-”

“If you want my help cut the crap you damn four eyes.”

“Fine,” Miyuki slumped against the wall and Kuramochi joined him. “I have this… friend, they go to Inashiro and I haven’t been able to keep in touch with them because I’ve been busy with practice and school.”

“So you’re being a shitty friend and you're sulking because they aren’t putting up with it?”

“I’m not being a shitty friend! Would you let me finish?”

“Alright, alright.”

“Anyways, they were telling me about what they’ve been doing and- for our whole lives I’ve always known everything that happened to them- and for the first time Mei, Narumiya Mei, was filling in bits and pieces for them.”

“So you’ve been a shitty friend, your friend went and made a new friend in the guy you hate most, and now you're jealous.”

“...”

“I don’t know what you want me to say man, send them an email? Become pen pals? Kill Mei so they don’t have any more friends?”

“Well,” Miyuki looked considerate of the last point.

“No. Look, I know I give you a lot of shit… but if your friend’s been trying to stay in touch and you haven’t, you’re the only one at fault here.” Kuramochi sighed as he stood back up. “Well, that’s all I got. But hey, if things don’t work out between you two would you give me their number?” He snickered.

“Kuramochi i swear to god-”

“Goodnight Miyuki!”

With a deep sigh, Miyuki dropped his head into his arms.

Kuramochi had a point. The only person to blame for how out of touch they were was him.

Taking a deep breath, he froze as his phone began to buzz. Y/N’s contact popping up on the screen.

Not the person he wanted to talk to right now.

“Maybe later,” he sighed, letting out the breath he was holding and declining the call.

#researcher s's recovery #ace of the diamond #daiya no ace #ace of the diamond x reader #daiya no ace x reader #miyuki kazuya #miyuki kazuya x reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #kuramochi youichi #narumiya mei #angst

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perfectvoidofnothing · 7 months

Text

What if scenario about Vanessa from the Movie and Micheal from the games (Spoilers for the movie) (Does this count as an AU??)

“Why exactly did you take this job?” “…Employees get free pizza.”

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Micheal - The oldest of the Afton Family, and also the only kid that didn’t die… during childhood at least. Back then, the Afton Family was a normal family. However, the first Afton that fell was Mike’s own mother. She died after giving birth to Elizabeth. The next Afton who died was none other than Mike’s younger brother, Evan. And that was because of Micheal’s own hands.

Ever since the Bite of 83, Mike kept having nightmares about the spirit of Evan haunting him, torturing him with his guilt. He kept grieving, tossing and turning in bed every time he’s reminded of his former torment of his younger brother. But his father William… he had a different reaction. While he seemed sad at first, he had a sort of… fascination.

Mike and Will were distant to each other ever since the bite of 83. Granted, Mike still had Elizabeth. Well, that is, until Elizabeth herself disappeared on the opening day of Circus Baby’s Pizza World. Micheal was distraught, asking Will where she was. But the father and the son continued to be like strangers to each other.

Then, William himself disappeared. After many searches, he was presumed dead, leaving Micheal the supposed only living member of the Afton Family. Though, William had one more asset tied to his name: Circus Baby’s Entertainment and Rental under Afton Robotics LLC. The new owners were looking for a technician to search around the place, since no one but Will knew the inside, so Micheal decided to give it a shot. After all, he didn’t really saw what his father was doing under his own company. Plus, those animatronics from Circus Baby’s Pizza World were there, and they could possibly have clues for Elizabeth’s disappearance. Can’t be hurt to check, right?

And what a revelation it is, to realize what his father was doing all along. He was shocked and scared. But with Circus Baby, housing Elizabeth‘s soul, he could finally redeem himself after Evan’s death, right? Instead, he got tricked, and is now a walking corpse left by Ennard as he starts his journey of finding his father. Using pseudonyms such as “Micheal Schmidt” and “Fritz Smith” to try and distance himself from his father, he takes a job at one of the few still standing Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza locations to try and set the souls of children free, to make up for his father’s crimes.

His father won’t just simply disappear. After all, he kept researching all about remnant in that underground facility disguised as a rental. He was obsessed for immortality. Mike knew one day he was going to see him again— it wouldn’t matter what he looked like— he would be the same old William Afton, the deranged child killer that just so happened to be his father. What Micheal didn’t expect was to see her. He had to wonder— with the many warnings that Vanessa’s been giving to him— just what does she know?

Vanessa - A kind and friendly police officer, who is known to be helpful. She seems like your regular police officer in Hurricane, Utah. What people don’t know is that her father is William Afton— the supposed child murderer who made a bunch of kids disappear within Fazbear Entertainment. But she never knew about her half-siblings Evan, Micheal and Elizabeth. That’s because of a deal that William struck between him and her mother before she was born. He will financially support the family if she didn’t tell anyone that he was Ness’ father, and they dont come near him if he’s with his “true wife” or his “main children.”

Ness loved Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza and everything it stood for, all the fantasy and fun was all mesmerizing to her. And when William started visiting her and her mother a bit more, she was quick to idolize him. However.. that lovely fantasy stopped when she saw her father in a yellow rabbit costume luring kids to an unknown place of the pizzeria, only for said kids to disappear without a trace. Ness’ mother immediately distanced her and her daughter from the Afton name, even after William was released due to lack of evidence. But Vanessa knew. She knew.

Vanessa still feels guilt letting William get away with the missing children. All she did was stand there— and let it happen. And it certainly didn’t help when she found out that the children’s souls are housed in the animatronics. I mean, the animatronics at the 1987 location act weird when adults were near. Hell, the daytime security guard there got attacked by an animatronic, losing their frontal lobe and their life. And since Will was a security guard.. it was easy for her to put two and two together.

Vanessa became a police officer as some sort of penance for what she could’ve done. She hadn’t thought of Afton or anything of Fazbear Entertainment— until, that is, he showed up.

She visited Mike during his second night of guard at the 1993 location. She made small chat and stuff, but mainly vaguely warn him about what happened that makes the animatronics aggressive. However, with Mike not only ignoring her warnings— but also actively pursuing the animatronics— she’s bewildered, angry and worried. Who does he think he is, ignoring what she knows best to do?

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Boy that was a lot of writing wasn’t it

Ever since watching the FNAF movie I really like Vanessa and her role, so I thought of some ideas on how she could fit into the OG afton family from the games. It also gave me the excuse to test out a new artstyle lmao

Also, here’s some little tidbits about Mike and Vanessa in this scenario that I made up:

Due to Mike being essentially a walking corpse, his nervous system is almost non existent. Things such as pricking a needle through his skin or shooting him doesn’t hurt at all.

Since Mike’s actual hair all fell out when Ennard was inside him, the “hair” he has is actually a wig that Mike sewn on his scalp.

Mike has put on many perfumes, colognes and body mists to try and combat his horrible odor smell, but that instead turns into a weird smell where you can smell Mike’s corpse odor along with different combinations of said perfumes, colognes and body mists. He’s tried using them individually, but that puked odor never really leaves.

Like in the movie, Vanessa gets the red airplane toy from William, and Evan is the one who originally had it. In fact, William gave Vanessa a lot of Evan’s old toys. She did not, however, got his plushies, cause Micheal took them without Will knowing.

Since it’s been a while Vanessa saw Will (cause the last time she did William was arrested due to the missing children’s incident), she doesn’t think Micheal looks like Will. She doesn’t even register a hint of Will’s appearance in Micheal.

While Vanessa back then thinks of William highly, Mike used to actually try and prank Will. He got him atleast once, but that grounded him for 2 weeks. Those 2 weeks were paradise for Evan.

Micheal (when he was young) used to work in the bigger 1987 location with another security guard— Jeremy Fritzgerald— as his mentor. When Jeremy got switched to day shift and became the bite of 87 victim, Micheal was so desensitized to death that he didn’t even shed a tear. He was a bit sad though.

Anyway, that’s enough typing. My brain’s already exploded and turned to mush while I was trying to write down lore things. Maybe this is what MatPat feels like when writing a new fnaf game theory vid lol

#fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf fanart #fnaf spoilers #micheal afton #vanessa shelly #vanessa afton #clarissa’s doodles and art #five nights at freddy's #Fun fact this is like my first ever fanart of fnaf ever #And I’ve been here since sister location #mike afton

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