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grimoireofhayley · 10 months

Text

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ Content, Stalking, Possessiveness, Dirty talk, Religion talk, Suppressed Mental Health problems (I.e., reader has some issues that she isn’t aware of)

Word Count: 1.2k

Tag List: @ev3ningrain @nerdytif @fanfic-enjoyer123 @darkenwolfie

A/N: I hope you all are enjoying this series so far, it’s going to be a long one! Let me know in the comments what you think about it thus far, what your favourite chapter is, or even part of a chapter. It makes my day reading your guys’ comments (: and it motivates me more to do more chapters! Also, I’m almost at 100 followers and I couldn’t be any more grateful 🥹 I’m thinking that once I hit the 100 mark, I’ll write a short story for said 100th follower of their choice! Or you guys can request any character for me to write about and a prompt on my page, it’ll make it a lot easier lol. Thank you ☺️ I hope you like this chapter!

All chapter links! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 6

The atmosphere was quickly illuminated by red, white and blue hues as the now-new crime scene unfolded in front and inside of your house.

“Jesus, (Y/n), what happened?” Tatum sprinted to your side, maneuvering under the caution tape and into your living room.

You sighed, rubbing your temples in slow-soothing circles, stress appearing in dark patches under your eyes.

“He was here…” You whispered, traumatized as the image of Steve’s heart flickered in your memories.

“Tatum, you shouldn’t be here. This is official police business, now.” Dewey scolded his younger sister, walking up beside her.

“Ugh, as if…” She rolled her eyes, “She’s staying with Sidney and I tonight. I was coming to pick her up…”

“That was still happening… even after the fight Sidney and I had?” You looked up at Tatum, momentarily forgetting about all the fuss that was going on around you.

“Yep, it’s a good thing too.” Tatum chuckled, sitting next to you. “I don’t care what happened between you and Sid earlier, you were my friend first and I’ll be damned if I let a bitch-fit between the two of you get in the way.” She nudged your shoulder, playfully. You smiled, but it quickly faded, hearing the staticky-voice over Dewey’s walkie-talkie.

“Dewey, you might want to come see this.” Sheriff Burke spoke, concern coaxing his words.

Your stomach twisted in all sorts of directions, squeezing tightly at the acid that was forming in it, causing it to travel up to your esophagus. You were ready to vomit, but you swallowed it, fighting the feeling, not wanting to go anywhere by yourself.

You wondered what Sheriff Burke meant.

“Right away, Sir.” Dewey spoke into his device, walking into the direction of where his boss was.

“So, what exactly happened, ( N/n)?”

“I got a phone call, then it quickly escalated from there…” You placed your hands over your face, futilely attempting to suffocate yourself with the pressure. “I thought nothing of it at first, but I-I was already getting the heebie-jeebies from the call, but he sounded genuine, so I ignored the feeling and kept talking to him…” You brought your hands to your lap, looking at Tatum, “Then the ph-phone went silent and at that exact moment, my doorbell r-rang…” You stumbled your sentence, struggling to find the proper words to continue explaining. “I was hesitant, so I peeped through the eyehole, trying to see if anyone was lurking about, but there was no one.” You sighed, “I decided I’d open the door, and you know, maybe get a better look, again, there was no one.” A tear rolled down your cheek.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, take it easy..” Tatum tried to comfort you and brought you into a hug, you were quick to wrap your arms around her, squeezing her, as you whimpered.

“Th-There was this box, and I didn’t think twice before I brought it into my home… oh, god.” You sobbed, “His heart was in it, Tatum, his fuckin’ heart!” Your voice broke.

“Hold on, whose heart?” She asked, baffled by what she was hearing.

“Steve’s.” You let out a quiet mewl, hugging Tatum tighter.

“How do you know?”

“Because he said it in the note and I-I believe it.” You sobbed yet again, “That’s not e-even the worst part…”

As bad as that may sound, it was true, the heart in the box wasn’t your main concern, but the fact that he was watching you, that he admitted it over the note that he had sloppily written, that he stated it over the phone; he was there, he could have been in your house the entire time, waiting for a moment to strike.

You could have been his next victim, the next book Gale Weathers would’ve written about. However, what’s even more concerning is that you thought it was sweet that he’d given you one of your biggest heartbreaks in a box. Pun intended.

The killer gave you Steve Orth’s heart; the guy that gave you both hell and pure bliss behind closed doors. The guy who seen you at your most vulnerable, the one who continued to defile you even when he was in a relationship.

You had his heart, officially. That’s all you ever wanted, but that was months ago.

This was karma doing what she did best, revenge…

Did the killer know about the affair? The humiliation? Did he kill Steve just for you? No, he couldn’t have, but did he? Was he someone you knew? Probably not, but he could be. You’ll never know and it’s eating you up inside. Why make a grand gesture and not show who he is, or even give you a subtle hint of who it may be.

As much as it scared you, it also humbled you. It was romantic, but completely unnecessary, yet, you wanted to thank him. Thank the stranger; the killer, for doing God’s dirty work, or in this case, Karma’s.

What is wrong with you? For fuck’s sake, he killed two people, and probably will kill again. Why would you want to thank him for that, are you that depraved? Maybe.

“Earth to (Y/n)?” Tatum snapped her fingers in front of your face, startling you from the never ending thoughts that corroded your mind.

“S-Sorry, what?” You stuttered, wiping a single tear from your cheek.

“I thought I lost you there for a moment, Hun. Dewey wants to speak with you…” She smiled, lightly, nodding towards her brother who appeared out of nowhere.

“Okay.. yeah, y-yeah, for sure..” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

You pushed yourself off the couch, making your way to the kitchen with Dewey.

“We’re sending the heart and the box away for DNA testing to see if it actually is Steve’s heart, alright?” Dewey explained, “We also want to take the note…” He stopped, turning around, picking up some other object, “And this to see if the suspect had left any fingerprints.” He showed it to you, and you paled, but the colour soon came back to your face as you felt yourself blush.

You were met with a paper-white face with two hollowed eyes and a gaping mouth, it was a mask, a mask that looked utterly horrifying, yet, disturbingly attractive at the same time.

Was it wrong that you were starting to get wet from the sheer thought of a possible tall and muscular man killing for you, wearing this mask?

Probably, but you didn’t care.

You squeezed your thighs together, putting pressure on your heat, trying to not let it slide that the mask was getting you off.

“We found this outside in the bushes by your house.” Dewey said, “Have you seen it before?”

You shook your head, biting your lip, you’ve never seen that before in your life, you’d be sure to remember it if you did. Though, now that you did see it, it wasn’t going to leave your mind, especially with how it was making you feel.

‘It almost looks like a Ghost Fac—‘ You cut yourself off mid thought.

“G.F…” You mumbled at no one in particular, “That’s what it stands for, Ghost Face, the killer dubbed himself as Ghost Face…”

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thepersonnamedsam · 1 year

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Dinner for two

Picture not mine (Pinterest)

Pairing: Tim Bradford x GN!Reader

Summary: Tim had a lot on his mind when he responded to a call that day. What he hadn’t have in mind, that he was taking out the victim to dinner.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: none, fluff, season 4 spoilers

Note: This is my second story on Tumblr and my first The Rookie story. I hope it’s bearable to read. Feedback is very welcomed!

masterlist / taglist

Tim’s first week as Sargent wasn’t as he expected. Sargent Grey has been observing his every move and he felt like a rookie all over again. Not to mention all the kids boots he is keep finding in his locker. Tim was exhausted. And now that the department hired Aaron Thorsen, the alleged killer of Patrick Hayes, his brain seemed to explode.

That’s why he didn’t see the sniper shooting coming and how the bullet graced the shoulder of a civilian, you. Tim instantly felt bad and rushed to your aid. His hands tried to stop the bleeding, but nothing seemed to help. How didn’t he see it coming? His brain went into survival mode, one of the first times not for his survival.

You were conscious and breathing, a relief for Tim, but for you it meant pain. Pain you never imagined feeling. And the stressed look of the officer above you didn’t seas your own stress. You tried to take your mind off the pain and your eyes wandered. The nametag of the helping officer read ‘Bradford’. His badge had ‘Sargent’ and ‘3483’ engraved. So, the helping officer wasn’t just an officer, he was the Sargent.

Tim saw your eyes on his badge and name tag, and he realized that he hasn’t introduced himself or asked for your name. “Ma’am, my name is Tim Bradford, you were injured, can you tell me your name?”

His words didn’t seem to arrive to you. You saw his mouth moving, but nothing came out of it.

“Ma’am? Do you understand me?” – “I can’t hear you”, you slurred. Tim’s eyes narrowed and for a split second put more pressure on the wound – you instantly moaned. Why wasn’t the ambulance on the scene yet?

“Control, where is the requested Ambulance? I have a gunshot wound to the shoulder, who won’t stop bleeding. Victim also doesn’t seem to hear clearly. I need backup, now!”

Just as he wanted to yell into the walkie-talkie again, the ambulance arrived on the scene. They rushed to you and provisionally wrapped your shoulder with a pressure gauze. They lifted you onto the stretcher, faces after faces appeared over your own and tried to talk to you, but nothing came through to you. Just as you thought you were alone, the pretty face of the Sargent appeared in front of you. Your heart started to race as his hand engulfed yours. His face softened as he spoke to you again. Broken word pieces came through to you and the bits you caught didn’t stop your heart racing.

“You’re going to make it through, no doubt. I believe in you!”

Even when you were rolled into the hospital, Sargent Bradford didn’t let go of your hand. Only when you were rolled into surgery, you missed the warmth of his hand. And when you woke up, you didn’t think you would feel the warmth again, but you did.

“Good morning, I know you don’t know me, but I couldn’t just let you alone, after all it’s my fault you got shot.”

“Wait, what? How can you be at fault for me being shot at?”

“I wasn’t in the right mindset and didn’t see it coming, I’m sorry. It shouldn’t happen, it’s all my fault.”

“Did you pull the trigger?” Your eyebrow raised your eyes bored into his.

“No?” He looked away ashamed.

“See, then you’re not at fault, everyone has a bad day, it happens.” Your voiced softened, you really didn’t think he was at fault.

“But my bad days shouldn’t affect an innocent civilian’s life.”

“I survived and I can walk away with a broken shoulder, but nothing worse happened.”

You didn’t want him to feel bad, about anything. Not just about the shooting. You wanted to hug him and hold him in your arms and tell him everything will be fine. But you couldn’t, you didn’t even know his name.

“Let’s start over. I still don’t know your name?”, you asked him.

You saw his face, it softened a bit, relieved you weren’t mad at him. “Tim Bradford.”

“Hey Tim, what’s flooding your brain today?” Your psychology degree came to use after all.

After about three hours, the Doctor came and released you. And Tim couldn’t just let you go. Good for him, you weren’t ready for that either. So, when he wanted to say goodbye, you asked him, if he could drive you home. He immediately agreed and led you to his car.

“You know, as a cop I have to remind you, not to get into a stranger’s car.”

“I’ve known you for a couple of hours, so you’re not a stranger anymore”, you smiled at him. “But you are true, even if you are a Sargent, we may want to start our first date not at my house.”

“But you’re injured!” – “True, but still”, you looked at him and had a mischievous smile on your face. “Ah, you’re trying to trick me”, his head dropped in disbelief and a small smile appeared on his face. “So, take-out at yours?”, he asked, and you immediately agreed.

You ordered Chinese, your favorite, and talked about everything. About his start as a Sargent, your job as a therapist. Your family, his family, especially his dad. It felt like you had known each other since forever. Talking to him was just so easy. Nothing felt out of place or wrong. Honestly, it felt like a dream.

So, when you woke the next morning, you weren’t actually sure, if Sargent Bradford even existed. Your pain in your shoulder distracted you from his absence, but your mind still wondered if it was all a dream. What you didn’t expect, was a cup of coffee and your painkillers waiting in your kitchen. Next to it was a note with his number on it. With a smile on your face, you saved the number on your phone with “SGT. Heartthrob <3”.

SGT. Heartthrob <3

You left early, xx

I know and I’m sorry

I had to leave for roll-call

It’s okay, you made coffee

I did, was it good?

It was perfect, thank you

You smiled and you couldn’t stop the whole day. But your day was boring, you were never off work, you always had something to do, even on your free days. So, this was your first time, since you started the job, that you had nothing to do. To say, you were surprised when Tim showed up at your house, was an understatement. He was smiling and held up a bag of takeout in his hand. “I thought, you weren’t up for cooking, so I brought takeout.”

And you had dinner again, for the second time that week. And it felt exactly the same as last night. With the exception, that Tim stayed in the morning and brought you your coffee and painkillers himself. Breakfast in bed.

#tim bradford #the rookie #the rookie x reader #the rookie x you #gender neutral reader #x reader #season 4 #john nolan #fanfic #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x gn!reader

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staticradiodotcom · 24 days

Text

Hazbin Hotel Hogwarts!AU

Tags: Hazbin hotel, Harry potter, The marauders, possible angst, Human AU maybe?? TW opinions. Not proof read.

(may contain unpopular ships)

CONTAINS SPOILERS

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AN: The marauders and Hazbin Hotel are two of my biggest hyper fixations rn. Writing this really knocked me out of my writers block.

feel free to debate about it!

Reminder: I sorted the characters based on the values of each house (it is completely okay to disagree!)

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Hogwarts House Values

Gryffindor - Courage, Daring, Nerve, Chivalry.

Hufflepuff - Hardwork, Patience, Loyalty, Honesty.

Ravenclaw - Intelligence, knowledge, wit, observation.

Slytherin - Ambition, Cunning, Cleverness, Resourceful.

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Hotel inhabitants:

Charlie

Slytherin

Reasoning: Charlie has proven time and time again throughout the series that she is ambitious when achieving her goals. She is always resourceful especially when figuring out how to help others (EX: recruiting the cannibals from cannibal town).

Sixth year. (17)

Has been dating Vaggie since Second year.

Constantly lending out her notes and homework for those who need it.

Everyone in Hogwarts knows her by name because of how well respected and adored she is.

Consistently defends the younger years (first and second years) from the older students.

Attends every single one of vaggie’s Quidditch games.

Vaggie

Hufflepuff

Reasoning: Vaggie is viciously loyal to her girlfriend (Charlie) and always puts her needs in front of her own. Vaggie is also Hardworking when trying aiding Charlie in her crusade.

Sixth Year (16)

Has been dating Charlie since Second year.

Never seen without Charlie.

Has a rough history with Lute, especially because of Second year.

Quidditch Beater

Hufflepuff Quidditch captain.

Alastor

Professor (Previously Slytherin)

Reasoning: I struggled to place alastor between Ravenclaw and Slytherin. However i leaned more towards Slytherin as he is cunning and resourceful enough to manipulate the main cast into making deals with him.

He gives Professor snape vibes idc.

Loves to learn the student gossip so he can later tell Professor Rosie.

Definitely Teaches Defense aginst the Dark Arts

A complete potions master, knows almost every single potion by memory.

Teaches the male students how to be true gentlemen.

Angel dust

Slytherin

Reasoning: Resourceful. He survived Valentino. come on.

Fifth year. (16)

Never seen anywhere without husk.

In this AU him and valentino are Ex’s.

Best friends with Cherri Bomb. He tries to keep a respectful reputation to get her out of trouble when he can.

Has started to Crush on Husk but after what happened with valentino he needs to learn to trust agian.

Husk

Ravenclaw

Reasoning: Has incredible observation skills. He also knows when to keep his mouth shut.

Fifth Year. (16)

After Angel told him about Val he never left Angels side.

Enjoys Cherri but can sometimes find her annoying

Would die to protect Nifty.

Sir Pentious

Hufflepuff

Reasoning: Loyalty. He literally died for the main cast.

Sixth Year (17)

Has a huge crush on cherri bomb but is convinced she doesn’t think he exists.

Enjoys talking to Vox about muggle technology.

Constantly experimenting with magic.

He views Nifty as a younger sister. However he knows damn well Nifty can handle herself.

Nifty

Hufflepuff

Reasoning: Hard worker at the hotel, she keeps on top of making everything clean. She’s also exceptionally patient.

Third year (14)

Complete clean freak. especially within the Hufflepuff dorms.

Constantly getting caught sneaking around after hours.

Chaser (yes. it is terrifying.)

Lucifer

Headmaster (Previously Gryffindor)

Reasoning: He fought for change in heaven, even after falling he showed bravery when taking on his position as the king of hell.

Honestly just wants what’s best for his students.

Constantly talking through problems with his students to aid in anywhere he can.

Close with Rosie so he can get all the gossip.

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Hell inhabitants

Vox

Ravenclaw

Reasoning: It’s vox.

Sixth year (17)

Vox has a fascination with muggle technology.

Alastor used to be his favourite teacher now he’s constantly skipping or ignoring his lessons.

Dating Valentino but is constantly worried Valentino is still in love with Angel.

Finds Angel annoying and whiny.

Valentino

Slytherin

Reasoning: Cunning, Ambitious. This man knows how to get what he wants.

Sixth year (17)

Dating Vox, However he’s only doing it to get back at Angel.

Huge ego.

Excels in potions class (love potions duh.)

Velvet

Hufflepuff

Reasoning: Loyal to Vox and Valentino. She’s hardworking on project she’s passionate about.

Fifth year (16)

Views Vox and valentino as her older brothers.

Vox and Valentino adopted her into their friendship during her first year.

Used to be incredibly close with Angel dust, they would both bitch and gossip. It hurt her a lot when Val and Angel broke up.

Envy’s the friendship between Cherri and Angel.

is actually friends with vaggie.

Carmilla

Professor (Previously Ravenclaw)

Reasoning: In the series she runs her own weapons company. i think that is self explanatory.

The youngest of all the other professors.

Teaches N.E.W.T and O.W.L preparation.

Deeply cares for all her students like a mother however she would never admit it.

Could never have children of her own so she turned to teaching.

Has a soft spot for velvet (i’m a firm believer that velvet is her daughter in the actual series)

Cherri

Hufflepuff

Reasoning: She is insanely loyal to Angel. She’s also always brutally honest with anyone and everyone.

Fifth year (16)

Best friends with Angel, consequently she became really close with husk as well.

Constantly pulling pranks.

Really wants Sir Pentious Help with her pranks but thinks he dislikes her.

Paints her nails in class.

Always gets detention from Zestial. She hates him.

Zestial

Professor (Previously Slytherin)

Reasoning: Zestial was hard to place between Ravenclaw and slytherin but in the few scenes we’ve seen with him i think he embodies cleverness and ambition. (he must be good if Alastor respects him)

Teaches English language (i do NOT care he convinced Lucifer that these young witches and wizards needed a basic education)

Strict yet somehow is one of the favourite teachers (just below rosie)

Incredibly skilled wizard yet the students have never seen him use his wand.

Rosie

Professor (Previously Ravenclaw)

Reasoning: Rosie has proved throughout the series that she is intelligent and has a keen sense of observation. i felt like Ravenclaw really fit her.

Matchmakes students constantly. every seating plan is meticulously arranged.

Will listen to any students problems and aid in the best way she can.

Teaches Herbology and the study of mythical creatures.

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Heaven Inhabitants

Adam

Gryffindor

Reasoning: His ego is way too big to be placed in any other house. (also he ‘sticks it to the man’)

Views Emily as a younger sister.

Best friends with Lute.

Will always defend Lutes actions no matter how drastic.

Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.

Lute

Slytherin

Reasoning: I struggled between Slytherin and Hufflepuff for Lute because of her loyalty. However i feel slytherin fits her perfectly. she’s ambitious, clever and resourceful.

Best friends with Adam.

Used to be best friends with Vaggie up until second year, now she hates her.

Quidditch Beater

Sera

Ravenclaw

Reasoning: Does this one need explaining??

Seventh Year (18)

Top of her classes.

Has a promising career within the future of the ministry.

Sera is very protective of Emily and does not approve of her friendship with Vaggie and Charlie.

Prefect.

Mature for her age, she grew up raising Emily.

Emily

Hufflepuff

Reasoning: Emily is patient and hardworking. She’s especially loyal with her friends and to sera.

In this AU i imagine Emily as a younger sister to Sera.

Emily is only in Second year and is already held to an incredibly high standard because of her sister.

Social butterfly, everyone knows her because of her sister.

Close friends with Charlie and Vaggie, However she also hangs out with lute a lot.

Views Adam as an older brother.

Childish, immature for her age. she didn’t have to grow up.

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eddie-hellfire-munson · 2 years

Text

-𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙-

gif credit: his-name-is-ed

Welcome to the hellfire club, this is gonna serve as my masterlist for every fic that I write. Starting out early, so I can keep track of things better and I won't forget or lose track of my fics.

side note: my main account, for answering comments/asks, is @welcome-to-hellfire-sweetheart

Definitely not because I started posting on my secondary account by accident

-𝕿𝖆𝖌 𝕷𝖎𝖘𝖙-

If you'd like to be added to the tag list please check out [this post]

𝕱𝖔𝖗 𝕽𝖊𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

♡ = light nsfw

♡ = heavier nsfw

♡ = full on smut

☆ = angst

☆ = heavy angst and potentially triggering topics

𝕰𝖉𝖉𝖎𝖊 𝕸𝖚𝖓𝖘𝖔𝖓

𝕳𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖓 𝕳𝖊𝖑𝖑 [♡]

pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

synopsis: when the weather reported that it was going to be in the 90s you never could have predicted just how insufferable that would feel.. especially not while you were stuck inside your best friends stuffy trailer.

warnings: drug use, cocky eddie, fingering, m & f orgasm, light choking if you squint, reader has a thing for his rings, light daddy kink.. eddie humping the bed-

[link]

𝕬𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖑 𝕰𝖞𝖊𝖘

pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

synopsis: Eddie Munson sneaking into your bedroom to find you jamming out to some Abba!

warnings: none! Just Eddie being Eddie and some fluff.

[link]

𝕽𝖆𝖒𝖇𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖗

pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!reader

synopsis: Your boyfriend Eddie is very.. very high.. but the conversations you have when he's stoned out of his mind are always memorable.

warnings: drug use, Eddie being baked as shit, bit of fluff.

[link]

𝖂𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝕳𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊

pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!reader

synopsis: A series where you get to know Eddie Munson♡

warnings: each part will have its own warnings.

[𝐈][𝐈𝐈][𝐈𝐈𝐈]

𝕿𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝕬𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 [♡]

pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

synopsis: Still grieving the death of your boyfriend you never truly expected to see him again, however sometimes fate has other things in store...

warnings: rated fucking R. Beating the minors off with a fucking stick because this is not for the faint of heart. Oviposition [egg laying], monster demobat Eddie, heavy angst, descriptions of death, blood drinking, etc.

[link]

-𝕰𝖉𝖉𝖎𝖊 𝕸𝖚𝖓𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘-

sfw headcanons: [𝐈]

nsfw headcanons: coming soon

𝔖𝔱𝔢𝔳𝔢 ℌ𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔱𝔬𝔫

Coming soon

𝕾𝖙𝖊𝖛𝖊 𝖃 𝕰𝖉𝖉𝖎𝖊

Steve X Eddie brainrot posts

[rings ♡]

𝕸𝖆𝖍𝖔𝖌𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖁𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖗 [☆]

pairing: Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

synopsis: Eddie's been having a hard time sleeping, and when Steve gets a distressed call from Max over the walkie talkie he decides to go check on him.

warnings: some Steddie angst and fluff, mentions of death, overdosing, and gore. Drug use, Eddie reliving his near-death trauma cause he's totally fine and alive and everything is fine.

[link]

this one does contain spoilers for s4 part two so if you haven't seen that I suggest watching it before you read this.

𝕭𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊

pairing: Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

synopsis: "Somehow Eddie returned" [it's a star wars reference].

warnings: alcohol abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms, Steve being miserable.

Chapters: [11:32am]

𝕭𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖞 𝕳𝖆𝖗𝖌𝖗𝖔𝖛𝖊

Coming soon

#eddie munson #steve harrington #billy hargrove #eddie munson x !reader #eddie munson x reader lemon #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x reader smut #billy hargove imagine #eddie munson imagine #steddie #eddie x steve #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader lemon

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tryingtimi · 21 days

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Incorrect Quotes Tag!

Tagged by @forthesanityofstorytellers, thank you! <3

Rules: use this link to generate some incorrect quotes for your characters!

Tagging: @bloodlessheirbyjacques, @the-void-writes, @aalinaaaaaa, @dyrewrites

Here are some Lonel incorrect quotes I cackled on.

Lonel: Hi. Selys: Hey, did you do what I said? Did you tell them? Lonel: I did. Selys: And what did they say? Lonel: “Thank you.” Selys: You’re totally welcome. What’d they say? Lonel: They said, “Thank you.” I said “I love you” and Odena said, “Thank you.”

Odena: You should have realised, Lonel, if Selys didn't kill you, we would. Okay but this one would be a fucking plot twist LMAO.

Lonel: *sneaking in through their window* Selys: *turning in their chair and flicking the light one* You want to tell me where you've been all night? Lonel: I was with Odena? Odena: *turning in their chair* Wanna try again?

Lonel: Well, remember when Odena made a romantic dinner for me? Selys: Lonel, they microwaved you a pizza.

Odena: You ever see something that changes your life and you're just like "huh.." Lonel: I saw you. Odena: Honestly that's so cute and sweet but it kinda makes this awkward because I was gonna show you a picture of Selys in a turkey costume.

Lonel: I asked Odena out. Selys: Oh, I’m sorry. Lonel: Why? Selys: Well, I assume they said no. Lonel: No, they said yes. Selys: Really? Then I’m sorry for them.

*at 3am* Selys: *runs into Lonel’s room and turns on the light* Wake up sleepyhead! Lonel: *wakes up* Dude! Selys: *cackles* Odena: *sits up from where they were sleeping behind Lonel* What the fuck, Selys? Selys: *jaw drops* Wait WHAT-

Odena: That shirt looks great, Lonel. Lonel: Thanks. Odena: But I bet it would look even better on Selys's floor. Selys: Are you hitting on Lonel... for me?

Odena: Do you support gay rights? Selys: I’m literally gay. Lonel: They’re avoiding the question!

Selys: Someone take me to art museums and make out with me. Lonel: But they said not to touch the masterpieces. Selys: Well somebody's got to pin the artwork to the wall. Odena, on a walkie talkie: This is Odena, those idiots are fucking around in the East wing again.

Lonel: Where are you going? Odena: To get MYSELF a gift cause somebody didn't get me one! Lonel: I told you I did! Its coming here on Friday! Selys, knowing full well that Lonel got Odena an engagement ring: *eating popcorn*

Selys: So, are you two dating now? Lonel & Odena: Yes. Selys: Why? Lonel: I happen to find Odena very appealing. Selys: Yeah, I can understand that. I'm trying to figure out what's wrong with Odena.

Odena: Why doesn’t Lonel find me sexy when I bite my lip? Selys: What do you look like when you bite your lip? Odena: *bites lip* Selys: ...Have you considered biting your bottom lip instead?

Selys: Can we talk about that mass email you sent? Lonel: Why? It was important. Selys: All it says is, "I'm back on my shit". Odena, shrugging: The people need to know.

Odena: Hey guys! I drew everyones soul! Selys: Why is Lonel's a monster? Lonel: Odena, you forgot Selys's! Its only an empty space! Odena, proudly: Exactly.

Odena, to Selys and Lonel: *holding knife out in front of them* Are you or are you not an enemy of the people?! Selys: ... Lonel: ... Selys: That is such an open-ended question. Lonel: Yeah, it really depends on a lot of different factors-

*Lonel and Odena texting* Lonel: Come downstairs and talk to me please. I'm lonely. Odena: Isn't Selys there? Lonel: Yes but I like you more.

#tag games #Project Lonel #man i had too much fun #needed some self-restrain to not share every stuff lol

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okmissgirl · 1 year

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Absolutely Normal Nonsense

Lil' brainless ficlets about Chrissy and her himbo Edward

Next Nonsense ->

🛼 Skating 🛼

Chrissy’s ass looks like a fucking dream when she’s wearing rollerskates.

At least, that’s half the reason Eddie bothers to take her and Red to the skatepark on the weekends. Sometimes they convince him to skate with them, but he usually maintains that he's better off watching to make sure they don’t break themselves while rolling around. Max even likes to bring Hopper's kid with her sometimes (more like sneak actually, the girl pops out of fucking thin air) and that just adds to Eddie’s anxiety, frankly. The Chief would fry his ass if he found out his daughter got injured and he didn’t do jack shit to stop it, so there’s clearly a need for Eddie to stay the lookout. Inevitably one of those girls will fall, and Eddie’s in charge of having the first aid kit on hand.

Chrissy is a lot better at cleaning cuts and putting bandages than he is though. She even gets the cute character prints that Max will grumble about wearing until El points out that the unicorn one on her elbow looks cool. Max will kinda smile, in that way where she wishes she wasn’t, and Eddie will watch her glare down at the band-aid box as she takes a few more home with her. And then she’ll glare at him because she’s probably required to do it or something.

All of these skating trips they take eventually get out to those idiot sheep of his, and soon Will’s tagging along with his sister, then Lucas and Erica get wind of it from Max. Mike gets pissed that he wasn’t invited and then Dustin tags along to annoy the shit out of Eddie by picking apart the next campaign. Chrissy manages to sneak her little brother Curtis out of the house one day and then bam! Lo’ and behold, these little skate trips are now a bimonthly thing that they coordinate over walkie talkies, and because Eddie can only fit so many children in his child-unfriendly van, Harrington begrudgingly picks up the slack. With Harrington comes the rest of the breakfast club, (a term Eddie resents wholeheartedly) but he’s honestly grateful for the company, if only to keep track of all the gremlins running around.

One scorching July day, Robin brings one of those big packs of double popsicles to the park with her. Everyone’s just lazing around under some trees or sitting on the benches, licking away when Robin nods at Chrissy.

“You know, I never said it before but your roller skates are killer, babe.”

Nancy nods. “Yeah those are absolutely adorable, Chrissy. Where’d you buy them?”

Chrissy lights up and scrambles to stand, rolling around while licking her orange popsicle.

“They’re nice right?! I got them on a discount and they fit perfectly. They’re also really functional too because some of the other skates don’t have good stopping mechanisms so it's a lot easier to… “

Robin smiles and nods while Nancy asks more questions. Chrissy continues to skate around happily, doing a couple twirls to demonstrate her agility. Robin knocks Eddie out of his trance with a nudge of her leg.

“I bet you love those little skates even more than she does, Munson.”

Eddie tries to shove the girl off the bench but she’s laughing at him the whole time.

Because he can’t exactly say no, can he?

⭐️⭐️⭐️

(going crazy trying to find the fanart with Chrissy and her lil skates. Saw it once and never again 🥲someone help)

#hellcheer #eddissy #eddie x chrissy #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson

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averagestudent03 · 1 year

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I Know The End: Chapter Five, The Russian Elevator.

(Pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!reader, stranger things rewrite - Also, skin tone and descriptions of reader are INCREDIBLY vague, so anyone with she/her pronouns can read!)

(Word Count: 4.4k)

(AN: Welcome to Chapter Five! This one took a while to write, My God, but they finally kiss at the end! Stranger Things dialogue, plot and all characters besides yourself belong to the Duffer Brothers. Please comment, I love to hear your opinions, criticisms, or thoughts for the future of the series! Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated! Comment if you'd like to be added to a tag list in the future, and thank you for reading! Enjoy, and I hope to get Chapter Six out tonight or early tomorrow!)

Series Warnings: swearing, jealousy, fear of abandonment, era-relevant homophobia, mentions of nausea, mentions of blood, slight angst? etc.

More warnings included in future chapters.

-----------------------------------

01/07/1985

On the first of August, 1985, Mike Wheeler sat with Will Byers and Lucas Sinclair in his house, desperately calling anyone and everyone he could get his hands on.

His hands shook as he clung onto the phone for dear life, voice stern as the whining of Max Mayfield filled his ears.

"I'm sleeping, go away-"

"It's Mike. Do not hang up." Max nearly dropped the phone, instantly silencing herself as she gripped it tighter.

"Something bad happened. Something very bad happened." She stood in shock, glancing over to the curled-up figure of Jane Hopper slumped on top of her sheets.

He paced back and forth, demanding she rush to his house immediately before slamming the phone on the receiver.

"Dustin's not answering." Lucas spoke, voice wavering slightly as his eyes skirted around the room.

"So try him again." Mike forced out through gritted teeth, attempting to pull at the quickly unraveling threads holding what remained of his life together. He slumped against the wall, screwing his eyes shut as Will looked over him with concern. Leaving only one thing racing across his head, taking priority over anything and everything else.

Something very, very bad had happened.

Meanwhile, Dustin Henderson had his rusted walkie-talkie turned on to a lone channel, shoved to the bottom of his backpack as he clutched onto the same pair of black binoculars. His eyes were caught on the shipment entrance to the Mall, men in black loading through hundred of packages, all armed.

All ready to fire at a moment's notice.

His gaze trailed from one of the men's head, following his arms right down to his slender fingers, tainted black with years of oil, ash and soot. In his left hand, he pressed am ivory key card to a panel on the wall, a shrill piercing sound echoing off the concrete of the road.

"That key card opens the door," He relayed, thinking back to the morning he'd spent on the roof, Russian-watching. The revelation that you and Robin had solved the code was met with grins twice the size of their faces, twisting at the corners and excitement bursting in their eyes. Dustin had squealed (although he would never admit it,) wrapping his arms around you and mumbling thanks repeatedly, whilst Steve headed straight for Robin, hugging and praising the girl (far too long for your liking) as she stiffened in his arms.

"But, unfortunately," He continued, reminiscing on how his gaze flickering back to the tall man with the moustache, "the Russian with this key card also has a massive gun." He choked out, disappointment building in your chest as you realised it might be slightly tougher to investigate than you thought.

"Whatever's in this room, whatever's in those boxes, they really don't want anyone finding it." He paced around the back room of Scoops, the three of you sat around a table as Steve fiddled with his sailor's hat.

"There's gotta be a way in." Robin insisted, much more invested now she had proof of the Russian's existence. This was no longer in the subjunctive or the metaphorical, this was real, and this was happening.

"Well, you know, I could just take him out?" Steve offered, leaning forwards to emphasise his point as you immediately stood, heading briskly for the door while holding in a laugh, attempting not to damage his already-bruised ego.

"Take who out?" Robin asked, Steve's eyes widening as he watched you rush, doubling over behind the counter before walking back in, slumping into your seat and wiping stray tears from your eyes.

"The Russian guard." He said, absolute certainty in his words. You stifled another laugh, Dustin doing the same as you both recalled the same memory of you both getting your asses handed to you by Billy Hargrove himself, and a few months prior when Jonathon Byers hit him across the face. You spent a little too long daydreaming about that one; although you didn't hate Steve, per se, you strongly disliked him for the moment as he tried to pursue Robin. you weren't blind, and you most certainly weren't stupid when it came to his sly words and wandering gaze.

Not that you were any better than him, of course, you were just better at hiding the stray longing looks and flirtatious comments.

Robin simply looked through him in disbelief, genuinely impressed at the size of his own ego.

"What? I sneak up behind him, I knock him out and I take his key card. It's easy!" He boasted, offended as you shook your head, laughing slightly.

"Am I the only person here who remembers the last two years? No?" You chuckled out, glancing at both Steve and Dustin.

"What, like you could do any better?" He remarked, looking slightly confused as you nodded sincerely.

"Yeah, I started boxing when I realised that there were-" You started, hesitating when you realised Robin was still in the room, "that there were assholes like Billy Hargrove around and I needed to be able to defend myself."

"Mhm, like you're stronger than me."

Dustin simply winced on behalf of the boy, realising that Steve had entirely skipped over the time you had broken his nose in response to his stunt regarding the cinema and Nancy Wheeler.

"She broke your nose, Steve."

"She what?" Robin exclaimed, glancing between the two of you as you hung your head slightly, laughing as you reminisced.

"He did some messed up shit to his ex-girlfriend last year, he came to me for help and I hit him in the face. I patched him up after because I felt bad and helped him try and win her back, but the damage was done- couldn't breathe properly for like a solid week. Sounds like someone had stuck one of those plastic wheezing rubber ducks into his sinuses." You murmured, slightly more confident than the day before. Of course, realising that your chances with Robin Buckley had slimmed from a decent-maybe to an absolutely no way in hell overnight had definitely contributed. Now, you could be slightly more flirty without risking too many consequences.

That wasn't to say that even the mere thought of her didn't turn you bright red, sent you spiralling into thoughts of her and the future.

"Steve, did you not hear the part about the massive gun?" Dustin asked, trying to skip over the nostalgia as Steve backtracked, stammering as he tried to appear certain in front of his new crush.

"Yes, Dustin, I did. That's why I would be sneaking." Steve emphasised, spitting out every syllable as he tried to erase the ridicule from his mind. He'd tell him off for it later, anyways.

"Well please, tell me this, and be honest, have you ever actually won a fight?"

"Okay, that was one time-" He tried to play it down and you couldn't help but let another few snide comments slip out, counting them as purely collateral damage for the shit he'd put you through a few years back. You'd forgiven him completely, but it didn't mean you couldn't have fun with it. And if that meant embarrassing him a little bit to make his chances with maybe the love of your life Robin Buckley any slimmer? So be it.

"Three times. Jonathon, year prior, then me-" You started, quickly interrupted by Henderson and his ramblings.

"And then Billy."

"Jonathon didn't count!" Steve proclaimed, struggling for words at this point. He'd had many verbal slam-downs in his life but only a few from the boy, and none in front of Robin Buckley.

"Why wouldn't it? Because it looks like he beat the shit out of you."

"It was-" "You got a fat lip," he continued, ignoring Steve's desperate pleas for the boy to shut up, "crooked nose that just got worse when she hit you, swollen eye, a lot of blood-"

"It was just things that added up-" He tried, Robin rushing to her feet as a smile crept its way onto her face, a confused look flashing across yours for a second.

"That just might work." She muttered, rushing out and grabbing the tip jar as the boys continued bickering, albeit running after her too.

"Robin!" He called, Henderson still rambling quietly about just how weak he was, "Hey- Robin! What- what are you doing?" He questioned, watching her through the sliding window.

"I need cash."

"Well- half of that's mine! Where are you going?!" He spluttered out, desperately trying to get her to stay so he could redeem his reputation.

"To find us a way into that room! A safe way! And in the meantime: Sling ice cream, behave, and don't get beat up! I'll be back-" She shouted, turning on her heels and sprinting out the Mall entrance.

You realised quickly after that your break had, in fact, ended, and you were running ridiculously late for your next shift. You stood up, racing out with both Henderson and Harrington calling after you, shouting your name at the top of their lungs.

02/07/22

The next day and a half were filled with screaming children (although that was mainly you, given the fact that Rob and Steve were hardly working and instead plotting a way to get into the Russian room through the air vents,) Dustin Henderson arriving every hour on the hour to demand your input plus a free go on Dig Dug, and you using your free breaks to go and help the others with their planning.

Not at all to stare at Robin Buckley.

When you finally arrived after your final shift, another brown paper bag in hand that had become tradition, you climbed up to the roof as the three of them stared at the door.

"Why are none of you downstairs?" You were rudely interrupted by a familiar voice crackling from the walkie-talkie.

"Commence Operation Child Endangerment." Your eyes widened after the shrill tone of Erica Sinclair rang out around the roof.

"The hell are you doing? You brought Sinclair into this? No! Absolutely no way, she's too young!" You cried, disregarding the bag to one side as you moved closer to all of them, Dustin looking offended.

"It was Steve's idea! And besides, she's only like a year or so younger than me! How come she's too young but I'm allowed to do it?" He replied as you tugged him to one side, bringing your voice to a hushed whisper as the others stared.

"I didn't want you involved, Short! It's dangerous! that's why we keep it to ourselves and don't involve Lucas' younger sister! How do you think he would feel if he found out we put her in danger, huh?" You scolded him, guilt immediately seeping into your thoughts as you watched the grin he was wearing twist into a frown.

"....sorry." He mumbled.

"It's fine." You sighed, trying to regain your composure, "Just think next time, okay? Not much we can do about it now, though."

"How'd you lot even bribe her in the first place?" You turned, looking between Robin and Steve, who had both temporarily stopped listening to Erica, letting her crawl and make her own way towards the room.

"Ice cream. Lots, and lots of ice cream."

"Makes sense." You hummed, glancing over the map and looking at the plans. It didn't take long for her to get in and work out how to open the door, allowing all of you inside as Dustin giggled.

He grabbed one of the larger boxes, hauling it onto the table as Steve cut it open with your pocket knife, met with the sight of bubbling green acid in weirdly-shaped vials in a metal box.

"Well that's definitely not Chinese food." Steve spoke, watching closely as white fog seeped out from inside the box.

"Maybe you guys should- uh, you know, stand back." He ordered, gesturing for all of you to move away before Dustin took a step closer, looking Steve dead in the eye.

"No."

"Just step back-"

"No!"

"Just step back! Seriously-"

"No!" The two bickered, eventually reaching a conclusion as Dustin blurted out, "If you die, I die!"

Steve seemed to back down after that, shrugging and letting the boy stand closer as you, Robin and Erica took another step into the corner. A slight hissing sound could be heard from inside the container and in response, Robin flinched and took a quick step towards you, wrapping your hand in hers for comfort.

You looked down, and she seemingly realised what she'd done, pulling her hand from yours and blushing.

"Sorry," She murmured, unenthusiastically as you shook your head, smiling as your hand chased hers once more, fingers entwining and relaxing you both.

"What the hell?" Steve muttered, holding one of the green vials up to show the rest of you.

"What is that?" Robin whispered, eyes narrowing as they focused on the swirling bubbles inside the glass. It was nothing like any of you had ever seen before, and would likely ever see again.

In an instant, all of you were silenced by a horrifying mechanical whirring echoing in through the vents as the floor shook slightly. You felt Robin's hand clutch yours tighter, Erica Sinclair muttering a quiet "Booby-traps," under her breath before the room began to shake again, repeating the metallic groaning from the vents.

"You know what? Let's just grab that and go-" Robin insisted, leaning forwards and snatching the vial from Steve, Dustin rushing towards the panel of buttons again, desperately pressing the large blue one in the centre with the words 'door open' printed on it in large black font.

"Which one do I press, Erica?" He begged, voice growing tenser with every second.

"Just press the damn button, nerd!"

"Which one? I'm pressing the button, okay?" He rushed out, fingers still hovering over the button and repeatedly slamming it into the wall as Robin took another step closer to you, beginning to panic slightly.

"It's okay." You whispered, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before she returned it, levelling her breathing.

"Press 'open door!'" "I'm pressing 'open door!'" They quarrelled, Steve chiming in as they all screamed at each other, fawning over who was pressing the button correctly.

"Guys get out of the way so she can press the button-" Robin offered, hesitation evident in her voice as she was cut off by another long, mechanical whirring sound.

"Just open the door!" She begged, all three of them shouting over one another, giving their two cents, rudely interrupted by the slamming down of a red metal door inside the room. It covered the exit and all of your eyes widened in surprise, looking at the crimson cover.

The lights shut off and in a second, the room was shaking, lights flickering as Robin Buckley fell back and stumbled into you, clinging to your side for dear life as Steve noticed the small sliver of wall, showing the outside of the room rapidly rising as they fell.

"Oh shit." He whispered, holding onto the nearest wall as it finally occurred to him where they were.

It wasn't a room, it was an elevator, and it was falling, fast.

All four of you were screaming now, clinging to nearby surfaces as Dustin scrambled to what used to be the door.

"Shit! SHIT!" He cried amongst shrieks, attempting to slam any button he could find.

"We're going down! We're going down-" Steve repeated, hyperventilating and clutching the side of one of the boxes.

"Yeah no shit Harrington!" Robin exclaimed, returning to screaming as they dropped at least another fifty feet.

"Why won't these buttons work?" Dustin yelled over Steve's screams, Erica rushing to his side and demanding that he press the button.

"What do you think I'm doing?!" He retaliated, looking at her in surprise.

"Come on, press something! Just- just press the button!" Steve begged, gesturing wildly as his other hand faltered from the boxes for a second, Erica slamming her hand on a random button whilst the elevator came to a grinding halt, throwing you all against the nearest wall.

Coincidentally, Robin fell into your lap, hitting her head against one the shelving units and slumping into your shoulder, groaning whilst Steve was launched into a corner, mumbling about the pain in his groin when one of the boxes fell directly into his lap.

You were certain you got the better deal of the two of you.

Dustin and Erica gathered in the corner, clutching their heads before scrambling over to Steve, moving the box off of him.

"I can't move!" The room jolted again, sending your head flying into the same shelving unit that Robin had hit (except with much more force,) as you winced and your vision blurred.

"Is everyone okay?" Robin questioned, hand still placed on the back of her head as she quickly scurried off your lap, blushing wildly as she tried to focus on helping Steve.

You were only slightly aware of the crimson dripping from the back of your skull onto your hand, more focused on Dustin and Erica, attempting to stand and failing miserably, slumping back into your original spot and screwing your eyes shut.

"Yeah, I'm great now that I know Russians can't design elevators!" Steve yelled, heading towards the buttons and shoving both Dustin and Erica out the way.

"I think we've clearly established that those buttons don't work." Robin pointed out, stepping closer to Steve and gesturing to them, unaware she was leaving you slumped in the corner. She assumed you were following her, blissfully ignorant regarding the lost weight of your hand in hers.

Instead, you were fighting the verge of unconsciousness, having caught the back end of one of the nails in the shelves, a pounding in your head ricocheting off of every corner in your mind.

"They're buttons! They have to do something!" Steve insisted, punctuating every syllable with a wave of his hand, bitterness seeping into his tone as Erica winced, not wanting to break the charade but also decently afraid.

"Yeah, if we had a key card!" You chanced one look at the flickering white lights from above, promptly screwing your eyes shut as the high-pitched shrieking in your ears returned tenfold. You'd never ever tell Robin to be quiet on a good day, but this wasn't looking like an overly good day, and you wished they'd all just be quiet to give you a moment's peace.

"What?" Steve questioned, Robin quickly confirming her own suspicions.

"It's an electronic lock! Same as the loading dock door. If we don't have a key card, it won't operate, meaning-"

"-we're stuck in here." Dustin finished, Steve groaning and running a hand through his hair, you finally losing the battle and allowing sleep's claws to dig themselves into you, head lulling to the floor.

Erica stepped forward, unintentionally distracting both Steve and Robin as they started another few lines of meaningless bickering, as Dustin rushed to your side, only now noticing the absence of your usual snarky comments.

"Shit. Shit!" He whispered, attempting to pull you up, eyes widening when he noticed his hand come out from behind your head a dark red.

"Just so you nerds are aware," Erica started, "I'm supposed to be spending the night at Tina's, and Tina always covers for me. But if I'm not home for Uncle Jack's party tomorrow, and my mom finds out you four are responsible, she's gonna hunt you down, one by one, and slit your throats." Robin had her arms wrapped around herself at this point, attempting to breathe out through her mouth as Steve continued the screaming match.

"I don't care about Tina! Or Uncle Jack's party!" Steve began, finishing every word with a loud smack against the cardboard boxes, "Your mom's not gonna be able to find us if we're dead in a Russian elevator!"

"Shit, don't say that!" Dustin yelled, taking himself by surprise as he once again propped you up, trying desperately to find a pulse.

"What?" Steve muttered, trying to find Dustin, eyes quickly landing on your slumped body in the corner and the steadily growing stream of blood on the floor, coming from the back of your head.

"Shit. Shit!" He yelled, rushing over to your side as Robin's eyes widened, Steve immediately moving and relaxing slightly when he found a pulse.

"What if we climbed out?" Dustin tried, pointing to a trapdoor in the roof, searching for anything to distract himself from the sight of your unconscious body on the floor. He'd only dealt with it once before, and even then, he had Steve to deal with it until he went and got himself knocked out too. You were a constant in his life, and he really didn't like the idea of having to deal with this whole Russian elevator thing alone.

Erica remained calm, for the most part. Robin, on the other hand, had gone from quietly stressing to borderline-panic attack, completely unaware that any of you had dealt with anything similar before. All she could see was the red leaking from the back of your head, looking nothing like the hair she used to stare at in English towards the end of the last few terms.

Dustin quickly clambered towards the trapdoor, lifting himself onto one of the boxes as the roof let out a small hiss at being opened. He let out a sigh of relief at your muffled voice, a more than irritated groan slipping past your lips.

"Oh fuck." You mumbled, clutching the back of your head with the previously bloodied hand, Robin letting out a small gasp at the notion you were still alive. She was having a real struggle with keeping the whole "I don't care," thing under wraps, and she was growing less and less afraid of the others finding out about her, and more and more afraid of something happening to you.

"Hey Buckley-" You chuckled, coughing slightly as Steve helped you up, propping yourself up against one of the walls.

"Hey, Sweetheart," The nickname slipped out of her with no care for anything else, and she prayed to whatever God was out there that Steve Harrington thought she meant it in a joking manner because she really couldn't deal with any possible comments right now. You, on the other hand, turned bright red but allowed a small smile to creep onto your lips, letting a small hiss through gritted teeth as you winced, your head moving far too quickly.

"Don't do that again, you hear me?" She scolded, walking over to your side and gently shoving your shoulder before sitting next to you, watching as Steve finished checking you didn't have a concussion and bandaged you with a spare scrap of fabric he found in the corner, before heading up and following Dustin and Erica through the trapdoor.

They all spent their time exploring, Robin resting her head on your shoulder and inevitably falling asleep. Dustin shot you a look, raising an eyebrow as your heart began to race, worried about what he'd think. Instead, he rolled his eyes at the display as you held your fingers to your lips, telling him to be quiet.

Erica had taken less than half an hour to fall asleep, curled up beside Steve as he let her lay her head in his lap, gently stroking his fingers through her hair, knowing it was something that the stubborn girl would never let him do if she were awake. He glanced over at you, and watched for the way you looked at Robin.

The way you stared over her, smiling, as if the girl herself was the centre of the universe. As if nothing else mattered, as long as she was alright.

He knew the look all too well, because it was the way he looked at Nancy.

It didn't stop his newfound feelings for the Buckley girl, only halting the crush in the size of its enormity; shrinking it slightly as he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his chest, knowing that she may be forced to choose between the two of you.

He was more than happy to give her up, as long as he had a fair shot, and as long as it was her decision. However, he was more worried about her reciprocation of his feelings. Not for himself, but for you. He didn't think he could stand to see the look on your face as he took something else, the devastating heartbreak that replaced every other expression.

He's not a stupid man, and Steve Harrington wasn't ever blind. Not then, and not now, either.

It was the same way you looked at Robin Buckley, and the same way he looked at Nancy Wheeler.

It was the same way you used to look at Nancy Wheeler.

Though, he didn't want to guess anything, or make either of you uncomfortable, so he dropped the thought as soon as it came. A doubt in his mind, but he was certain you didn't feel that way about her. He wasn't blind, or stupid, but he could be blissfully ignorant.

You couldn't feel like that, she was a girl.

The brunette tossed in your arms, and you stiffened, moving away slightly as she rubbed at her eyes. She called your name quietly, whining at the loss of contact as you started to climb one of the boxes.

"Robs? You alright?" You asked, her stumbling to her feet as she followed you.

" 'M okay, jus' need some air-" She murmured, following you and shutting the trapdoor, legs dangling off the side of the elevator, leaving Steve and the others to sleep.

A moment of quiet.

Another.

"So." You started, and the girl simply left you both in silence.

"So." She waited before finally responded, taking in a deep breath, every nerve in her body on fire in fear of being found out.

"Sweetheart, huh?"

Shit.

She'd been so torn up in her worry over your safety and Steve finding out, she hadn't thought about the repercussions from you if you caught onto her slipup. It didn't matter at the time, she figured you'd been too out of it to remember.

"Yeah. Sweetheart."

" 's nice, Robs. I like it."

"You do?" She questioned, brows furrowing as she glanced over at you, hands in your lap as you fidgeted nervously with the skin of your fingers.

"Yeah. Always wondered what it'd sound like coming from you."

"Was it all you hoped and dreamed?" She chuckled sarcastically, slightly more at ease now she knew she hadn't upset you.

"God yes. Was worried I was gonna pass out again-"

"Really?"

"Absolutely, have you seen yourself Buckley? You're a total catch." You rattled out in one go, taking in a deep breath as you realised the rest of it could be played off as meaningless flirting, but this was more.

"...yeah?"

"Yeah, Robs." She paused, hesitating for a second, a thousand thoughts racing across her mind.

She may never get another chance at this.

Robin Buckley was never the best at picking up social ques, but she swore she'd never begged harder to the Gods above that she was reading something right, than this very moment.

She quickly grabbed the side of your face and brought her lips to yours before she had a chance to regret it. You kissed her back, reaching up and threading a hand through her hair (something you had always wanted to do and Jesus Christ was it worth it,) just relaxing in each other's embrace.

It was slow, and sweet, and tasted just a little bit like ice cream and pink bubble-gum.

Better yet, Robin Buckley tasted like a fresh start.

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portaltothevoid · 1 year

Text

For Whom the Bell Tolls - Chapter Sixteen - Symphony of Destruction

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (Kat Ramsay), sequel to Foolin’

Summary: Kat and Eddie are finally confronted by Jason only to become even more haunted by Vecna taking another victim.

Warnings: established relationship, death, gore, anxiety/panic, swearing, “good girl”

Word count: 2.1k

Chapter song: Symphony of Destruction by Megadeth

Tag list: @munchabunch @madaboutmunson @michele131 @riffcrusader @prettyboyeddiemunson @literarypeachtea

Eddie’s eyes grew as wide as saucers as the moment he had feared the most was finally staring him in the face.

Kat’s features, however, clouded with rage. She started to get up, but he was quick to grab her arm and pull her back down to him.

“Kat, no, we have to lay low til they’re gone,” he whispered through his teeth.

“‘Til they’re gone?’ What? Are you crazy? I’m gonna take care of this prick. Eddie, let me go.”

“No! I’m not! Look! I know we’re easy targets here, but they are going to tear apart that house. It’s only a matter of time before one of their dumb asses realizes we’re probably here. So we just have to wait til they search, you hide us, and they’ll leave.”

Kat sighed as she slid back down beside him.

“They can’t find me. I can’t– I don’t even stand a chance…” he said, his voice breaking, lip trembling.

She turned to him and took his face between her hands. “Munson, you listen to me. Anyone, and I mean, anyone who tries to lay a finger on you… has to go through me first. Understand?”

Eddie glanced down and avoided eye contact with her. She shook his head, forcing his attention back to her.

“I said, do you understand?” she said seriously.

He reached for her hand, while leaning his head into the other. As he closed his eyes and sighed, he nodded. “Yeah, I do. It’s just, uh, it’s hard for me, ya know? You’re like… I mean besides Wayne. You’re the only one that’s, uh, that’s ever looked out for me.”

Kat softened at Eddie’s confession. “Well, someone has to look out for the little sheepies’ herder, don’t they?” she chuckled.

Some loud noises from inside the main house pulled them out of their tender moment.

“Shit,” Eddie mumbled before his face lit up with an idea. He gently moved Kat out of the way so he could reach the Walkie. He kept peeking out of the window as he spoke into it. “Hey, Dustin, you there? It’s Eddie. And Kat. You remember us, right? Hey, uh, if anyone’s there I really think we might be in a bit of trouble here, okay? Wheeler? Anybody?!”

“Eddie, hitting our only source of communication isn’t gonna make them respond. Where the hell are they?!” Kat spat.

“Great. Just great! We’re sitting ducks in here.”

Suddenly, Kat’s breath hitched. She reached to touch the back of her neck, feeling the goosebumps that had just formed.

“Kat? What is it? What are you, uh, picking up on?”

“Vecna. He’s getting ready.”

“Oh, goddamn it, man. Jesus Christ.”

“I don’t think I can find who it is in time and keep us safe too,” she said worriedly.

“M-maybe Jason will leave soon…”

– – – – – – – – – –

“What was that you said about Jason leaving soon?” Kat asked sarcastically.

“I mean, gotta kinda applaud his thoroughness.”

Kat shot Eddie a look. Even in the now darkness of the boathouse, he shut right up.

“Try Dustin again.”

“Dustin?” Eddie asked into the walkie talkie. “Please. Are… are you there? … Nevermind.” He then darted over to the boat.

“Eddie, what the hell are you doing?”

“The boat. As long as we get out far enough, then I can start this piece of shit, and we’ll be long gone by the time Jason realizes he was too stupid to look out here.”

“I don– Oh, fuck it. Let’s go.”

Swiftly, Eddie took the tarp off the boat and started to push it out of the boathouse.

“Ah!” Kat stumbled as the chime of a grandfather clock reverberated in her skull.

“Get in, I’ve got this,” Eddie reassured her. She nodded as she took his hand and got in the boat. Once she was hunkered down, she tuned out Eddie’s actions and felt a wave of intense energy hit her like a brick wall.

“It’s happening. He’s… Oh my god, there’s… The energy… There’s so much. It– It’s close,” Kat held her head as she tried to sort through it all and to not let this overwhelm her.

“Block him out. You gotta cloak yourself energetically like you do us visually,” Eddie instructed.

Kat paused and just looked at him for his genius suggestion.

“What?” he shrugged as pushed them away from the dock with an oar. “D&D is clearly useful in the real world.”

“Just shut up and row!”

Kat did as he suggested and tried to block the energy that wanted to consume her. She focused on forcing it away from her, but all the while, she felt like her battery was draining fast. With each passing second it was becoming more and more difficult to concentrate. Especially when she kept feeling it pull her toward the shore.

Despite how hard she was trying, the mix of everything happening around her, caused her powers to slip. Their location on the water was being revealed to Jason like there was a glitch in the matrix.

“Holy shit. Hey, freaks!” Jason yelled. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Slowly Eddie turned around to look at Jason and then he looked at Kat whose eyes were now laser focused on the jock. Another chime sounded in Kat’s ears. “Shit,” Eddie muttered.

“It’s him. The next–”

Patrick… Kat heard him call out to the boy beside Jason.

Eddie quickly got around Kat and began frantically pulling the starter for the boat. “Just, come on… you… piece… of shit!” he said emphatically with each pull.

All the while Jason and his friend, who Kat assumed was named Patrick now that she could hear Vecna loud and clear in her head, were getting undressed to swim after them. The boat’s engine only sputtered.

“Come on. Gotta help me out here, man,” Eddie pleaded with the inanimate object beneath him. The engine revved, but stopped just short of coming to life. “Come on. Come on, you piece of shit! Kat, a little help here? Kat? Jason’s literally running into the water! So, gonna guess he sees us! Goddamn it!” He yelled as he hit the engine one last time for good measure. “Nope? Okay. All right. Okay. ‘Scuse me,” he muttered breathlessly as he stumbled to the front of the boat, picking up an oar and started rowing them away as fast as he could from their two assailants.

Kat was still reeling from the energy amping up around her. She was trying to separate herself from it, but the more she tried, the less control she had. Every time she attempted to focus on herself and her own energy, she could barely even find it.

Chime.

Her fists balled up beside her. Her chest swelled. She pulled up energy from below and as she threw her arms out, releasing energy from her hands, she shouted, “Stop!”

Eddie almost dropped the oar in the water, but he brought it into the boat as he turned around to face her.

Jason had a smirk on his face. “Finally giving up, Freaks?” he said as he kept swimming.

Patrick had a blank stare as he stopped swimming and looked off somewhere far away.

“Hey, stay back, man! Stay back!” Eddie shouted as he started swinging the oar toward Jason who relentlessly charged on.

“Hey, come on, let’s go! We almost have him!” Jason called to his devotee. He stopped swimming and turned to look at him when he realized Patrick had stopped and wasn’t responding.

Kat stood up and went to the edge of the boat. “Patrick! Patrick, focus on my voice! Whatever you’re seeing isn’t real,” she stressed.

Chime.

“Goddamn it!” Kat cried. She turned to look desperately at Eddie. “I can’t stop him, Eddie, I can’t–”

“Hey, Patrick? Patrick!” Jason quickly turned away from his friend to face Kat. “You! You’re doing this aren’t you!”

“Jason, just shut the hell up! Do you not see he’s in danger?!” Kat screeched.

Kat could hear Vecna’s snarl. Even though it was distorted, she knew it was him.

“What are you–” Jason started to respond, but stopped short when Patrick vanished. Something had pulled him under the water. “I should… I should’ve known it wasn’t Munson. He– he’s all talk, but… But you, Kat… Patrick! Hey, Patrick!”

“I won’t let you get away with this!” Kat yelled down to the water.

The only thing Eddie and Jason could hear was the sound of the water. Kat, on the other hand, heard Vecna’s sinister laugh.

Without warning, Patrick shot back out of the water. Jason could only watch, too terrified to utter a single sound. Eddie was so stunned as he watched the boy floating above the water that he started to step backwards. His motion caused the boat to rock side to side. He didn’t realize when he was close to the edge of the boat until his calves hit it. The momentum of the top of half of his body toppled him overboard.

Jason watched what happened to Chrissy happen to his teammate.

Once Eddie surfaced from the water, he looked up in horror as he had to watch the most gruesome and grotesque thing he’s ever seen happen to someone. Again. He couldn’t do anything, but gasp as he waded in the dark water.

Kat didn’t hear Eddie fall into the water. She didn’t even hear Patrick’s bones breaking. Only one voice echoed loudly, just for her ears.

Then join me, Katrina… Patrick already has…

“NO!” Kat screamed. At the sound of her voice, Jason whipped his head back around to witness what Kat was fully capable of.

She stood up and steadied the still rocking boat with the energy pouring out of her left hand. Her right hand flew out, casting energy around Eddie. As her arm rose into the air, he did too. Kat lifted him out of the water and guided him back into the boat, where he landed with a thud on his back.

The clamorous sounds that had clouded Kat’s thoughts ceased the instant Patrick’s contorted, dead body hit the water with a splash. Her breathing was labored and angry.

Jason slowly turned around to face the couple in the boat. “Y-you. It was you. You– You’re… You’re the devil!” he cried out.

“Jason, I am not the enemy here. I can’t… I couldn’t stop what happened to Patrick. I’m not strong enough. If I was, Chrissy would still be alive and this never would have happened!”

“It was you! You killed her! Didn’t you?! You killed my Chrissy!”

“No… I… didn’t!” she bellowed.

Her anger and grief took control of her actions. She reached her hand out and held it as if she was actually holding Jason’s throat. Slowly she applied pressure and began to close it. Jason thrashed in the water. He gasped for air while trying to claw at his own neck in hopes of stopping whatever was suffocating him.

In a panic, Eddie got up and inched toward Kat. She was too focused on Jason to notice him beside her. Calmly he placed his hand on her outstretched arm. Her head immediately turned to him as soon as she felt the contact. He continued to slide his hand down her arm until it was covering hers.

“Kat, he isn’t worth it,” Eddie whispered softly.

With an angry huff she let her hand fall to her side. She turned to look up at Eddie. His left hand tightly gripping her jacket was the only sign of distress he showed. He was anchoring himself to her. Even though he was calmly talking her off the ledge she was on, he was still reeling from witnessing Vecna take another victim. His other hand squeezed her arm firmly enough to bring her focus back to the present moment. “Good girl,” he breathed into her ear when he felt the tension in her muscle wane under his hold.

“Are... are you gonna kill me?” Jason gasped hoarsely, staring up at them from the lake in fear.

“Not if you let me and Eddie leave.”

Jason opened his mouth like he was about to say something and then quickly shut it. After a huff, he pointed at them and shouted, “This isn’t over!” before he swam towards the shore.

“No, it’s not,” Kat said quietly as she sat down. She wiped the blood from her nose before grabbing an oar.

“Hey, I’ve got this. Let me. I know another place we can hide,” Eddie said as he gently took the oar from Kat. She nodded and got up to sit on the seat closer to the engine. He took her place in the center of the row boat. As Eddie looked ahead to steer, she bit down on her bottom lip. She turned away from Eddie, in case he glanced back at her, so he wouldn’t see the silent tears that started to stream down her face.

previous chapter | next chapter

#eddie munson #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x ofc #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fix it fic #jason carver #vecna #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #joseph quinn #joe quinn

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thecollectionsof · 2 years

Text

the fifth store (i don't know what else to name this?)

i don't feel like posting anything under 1k words to ao3 so. here's this, as ~exclusive bonus content~

(under the read more because i don't want to take up space)

Gigi sighs as she finds nothing of interest in yet another store, this one marking her fifth try. Running one hand through her hair, she lets out a long sigh, beginning to retrace her steps through the store, its winding sales racks and narrow walkways making it hard to get to the exit. Maybe that was a weird design strategy or something, but the cramped shelves seemed way too purposeful for it to be accidental.

Gigi is knocked from her thoughts as she bumps into a clothing rack, sending a few of the dresses on it tumbling to the floor. The movement causes a commotion, the beads on the remaining dresses still hanging up noisily clacking against one another in a racket that might sound nice if it wasn’t so loud. She smooths her hands over the dresses, shushing them as she hangs up the ones that have fallen.

“Did you just shush clothing?” A lilting voice rings out from somewhere to her left, and as she turns she’s met with a girl about her age muffling her laughter behind one hand. She seemingly works at the store, dressed in a button down, jeans, and a name tag reading Crystal in surprisingly neat handwriting. She has an undeniable charm to her—maybe it was her abundance of accessories, or her curly mullet?

“Uh… no?” She turns her head slightly, embarrassed that she was caught doing something weird. And by someone who looks so cool, too.

“No, no! Don’t be embarrassed, it was cute! Just the other day, a customer caught me having a full conversation with one of the mannequins, so trust me—I get it,” Crystal rushes to soothe her, and Gigi can’t help but let out a chuckle.

“Do you make a habit of talking to mannequins, Crystal?”

“…No?” Crystal hesitates, obviously lying, and Gigi can’t help but melt at how endearing she is, “Wait. How do you know my name?”

“Um. It says it on your shirt. You know you’re wearing a name tag, right?”

Crystal blinks, like it hadn’t occurred to her.

“Oh. Oh, yeah, I am. What’s your name, I’m at a disadvantage!” She pouts, jutting out her lower lip. Gigi lets out a loud laugh before quickly stifling it, noticing how out of place it seemed in the quiet store. Crystal’s face brightens at the sound, a wide grin stretching across her face.

“Gigi. Gigi Goode,” she introduces herself with a smile, matching the already present one on Crystal’s face.

A crackling voice sounds through a walkie-talkie attached to Crystal’s hip, summoning her to the back of the store. The magnetic energy that had built between the two of them flees, and Crystal takes one slow step back, looking as deflated and disappointed as Gigi feels. Gigi’s hand reaches out, looking to catch the girl in front of her before she can go any further, but she remembers herself at the last second and returns her hand to her side.

“Feel free to say no. But. Could I have your number? Or—wait, I should just give you my number, I don’t want to put any pressure on you or anything, wait a second—” Words fall out of Gigi’s mouth before she can stop them, but she’s too concerned with finding a pen to worry about her rambling.

She finds a scrap of a receipt and a purple pen in the bottom of her purse, and she scribbles her number onto the receipt before shoving it into Crystal’s hands.

“Don’t feel like you have to text! But you can. If you want.” Gigi blushes and looks down at the floor, the awkwardness of her fumbling finally catching up to her. A beat of silence passes, then two, and Gigi thinks she’s blown it until she hears the distinct sound of Crystal’s laughter once more. She looks up to see the girl in front of her clutching the paper, her face flushed red and smiling wide as she steps closer again. Crystal catches one of Gigi’s hands in her own—the one not holding the receipt—and squeezes it.

“I’ll definitely be texting you, don’t worry. I’ll text you right when I’m done with my shift, okay?” Crystal asks, letting go of Gigi’s hand. The same voice sounds through the walkie-talkie again, more urgent this time.

“Okay,” Gigi echoes. Crystal shoots her one last grin as she turns to the back of the store, walking with a skip in her step towards a room labeled Keep Out: Employees Only. Gigi watches her duck inside, before turning on her heel and walking out of the store. Despite walking empty-handed out of all of the five stores she had been to today, she still considered it a success. After all, she may not have found what she was looking for, but she did find something—someone—far more interesting.

#it's a meet cute type day #(please tell me your thoughts i want to interact with people so i feel like a real person that exists)#crygi #gi writing? it's more likely than you think #little oneshots

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whumpinggrounds · 2 years

Note

What have I done for august?

At long last, an August update! For @badthingshappenbingo :)

Tagging my superhero crew - @whatwasmyprevioususername, @princess-poopsicle, @snowshower, @whumpywritings

CW: sidekick whumpee, hero whumper, villain caretaker, guilt, angst, mentions of past abuse

They don’t let August be a part of the discussions about going after the villain. “Beck can see it’s upsetting you,” Don tells his apprentice, looking irritated. As if he has any right to be angry about it. “He knows you’re too much a coward to do what needs to be done.”

“I’m not a coward,” snaps August, although he flinches when Don rounds on him. “I don’t want to see the wrong person get…get hurt.”

Don grunts, looking spectacularly unimpressed. “Then you shouldn’t have told Beck it was your little villain friend.”

Shame pools in August’s stomach, but he tries his best to sound defiant. “Maybe you shouldn’t have been going after me with a knife for hours.”

“Hours.” Don snorts. “You folded in about thirty minutes.”

Flushing, August finds his mouth working, but there’s nothing to say. “Fuck you,” he spits, and Don slaps him almost casually, one massive hand flicking out deceptively quickly and sending August reeling into the wall. The dozens of scabbed over cuts on his torso sing out protests that have him wincing, curling over on himself. From above him – lofty, unbothered, unassailable – Don snorts.

August hates how, around Donovan, he always finds himself flinching, cringing, small. It’s still not a relief when Don and Beck leave, hours later, grim-faced and carrying weapons. August can’t trail them out the door, not with Val watching his every move like a hawk. Miserable, he retreats to their common room, where he paces endless circles around the room under the medic’s increasingly exasperated eyes.

“Why don’t you just go run a few laps, if you have this much energy?” she grouses, on about his thirtieth trip around the couch.

“I…I want to know what’s going on.” Val points to the walkie-talkie clipped to her shoulder, but August shakes his head. He knows there won’t be any lurid detail coming from there. His tortured gaze flicks up to the TV screen, where the evening news is being transmitted with dry professionalism. There’s no breathless talk of a high-speed chase, or an explosion, or a gunfight or anything like that. That’s a good thing, right? Right?

Completely misreading his anxiety, Val shakes her head. “Beck and Don are going to be fine, you know. They’ve been doing this a long time.”

“That’s not...I’m not…” August huffs. “That’s great. I’m sure they will be.”

“Don’t get prickly on me just because I can’t read your mind.” Val sounds completely unbothered by his tone, but it’s just like her, to not let him get away with that.

“I’m not getting prickly.”

“Yes, you are. You can either cut it out or tell me why.”

“Or you could leave me alone.”

“Nope.” Val shakes her head so her cropped hair swings. “I’m babysitting for the night.”

August scowls. “Do you have to call it that?”

“What else do you call watching a kid so they don’t do anything stupid?”

August opens his mouth to respond but can’t think of anything to say that doesn’t sound like whining. He closes it with a snap and turns away, pacing in the other direction so Valerie can’t see his face. He doesn’t want her to see how upset he truly is, but something in his body must give it away, because when she speaks again, her voice is softer.

“Look. I know you’re upset. You have every right to be. And I know you want to be a hero now, too. But this…this is better left to Don and Beck. And, you know, someday you’ll be with them. But right now…today…you need to let them do this.”

It would’ve been a great speech if Valerie hadn’t been so completely off base. Swallowing hard, August encounters a lump in his throat of alarming size. He can’t cry in front of Valerie. He just can’t.

Taking a deep, controlled breath, August chooses his words with exceeding care. “It’s not…that I want…to be the one to take them…take them down.” He admits it slowly. He’s still not sure if he should tell her – and he’s certainly not going to tell her the full truth – but he can’t keep carrying this anxiety and guilt. The pressure feels like it’s going to squash him flat. “I’m not…angry. I feel…guilty.”

“Guilty?” Valerie stares at him, incredulous. “Guilty about what?”

The lump in August’s throat makes it hard for him to speak. Still facing away from Val, staring fixedly at the dark navy wall in front of him, August swallows, then swallows again. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.”

The admission comes out tiny, pathetic. Val drowns it out with her response. “What? August, look at me. What?”

Reluctantly, he turns to face her. Val’s hands are planted on her hips and she’s glaring fit to kill. It’s enough to break August’s misery and make him snort, just a little. Rolling her eyes, she marches up to him and pokes a finger in the center of his chest.

“In case you’ve forgotten, I was the one who patched up your sorry ass after you got back here.” Holding up her hand in front of his face, she ticks off her fingers one by one. “Broken ribs. Dislocated arm. More cuts and bruises than I could count. Broken nose! Concussion. Do I need to go on?”

The smile slips from August’s face. “No.”

“That asshole beat the shit out of you. You really don’t need to worry about them getting hurt now.”

“I…” August shakes his head. “It wasn’t…so bad. Really. And…and I just don’t want…and what if I was wrong, anyway? What if it wasn’t…that…villain?”

What if it was the hero that’s supposed to be training me?

Now it’s Valerie’s turn to shake her head. “Where is this martyr thing coming from? I hadn’t pegged you for such a…bleeding heart.”

Despair wells up in August, fast and heavy-making. It feels like a cloud falling over him, like a sorrow too big for words. Val is looking at him with confusion and compassion and the faintest irritation in her eyes, and it’s like she’s staring from the other side of a canyon, or a mountain too big to climb. August settles for the smallest, simplest truth. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt. I don’t…want it to be my fault that anyone gets hurt.”

Valerie heaves an exasperated sigh. “It’s not going to be your fault, and besides, it shouldn’t matter when the person getting hurt is a colossal asshole that beat the shit out of you.” She nudges him, but August can’t even fake a grin. “And-”

The walkie clipped to Val’s shoulder crackles to life. “Headed home.”

It’s Beck’s voice, the words terse. Even over radio waves, August can tell he doesn’t sound happy. The two exchange a wide-eyed look, and Val presses the transmit button. “Any need for medical?”

She keeps her face smooth and her voice even, but August sees the finest tremble in her fingers as they wait, poised for action and tense all over, for a reply.

It’s Don’s voice that comes through next, and August can hear the man’s smirk. “Not for us,” he tells them, and August’s knees go out. He sinks into the couch behind him, hands coming up to cover his face. It feels dramatic; it feels too obvious, but he can’t stop the hot stinging tears that come rushing to his eyes.

The villain’s soft voice. Their teasing. Their concerned eyes. The questions. The phone number that’s still tucked beneath the sole of his latest pair of shoes.

“What have I done?” August breathes, no longer caring if Val can hear him. She places a hand on his shoulder, but he barely registers. He just feels numb. “What the fuck have I done?”

#august the blur #superhero whumpee #sidekick whumpee #superhero whump #hero whumper #superhero whumper #villain caretaker #guilt #angst #bthb #bad things happen bingo: what have i done #bthb: what have i done #male whumpee #male whumper #mentions of past abuse

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pigeonwhumps · 2 years

Text

Find the Word tag game

Thanks for the tag @verkja! I was tagged to find Hollow, Smooth, Glass, and Push. I couldn't find hollow unfortunately but I found the rest (and they're long snippets lol). All from different series too!

Smooth

CWs: fingore, handcuffs

And Sam kicks out.

They swipe the legs out from under the officer and he falls backwards, already unbalanced from leaning in to hear them. Then they stand, letting the handcuffs fall away, and quick as a flash they drag the officer across the floor, securing his wrist to a table leg. He watches, eyes stunned and scared, as they crouch down in front of him.

"Now. Where the fuck is my friend?"

"I– I can't say."

Sam takes the officer's hand and holds up a finger. "Lucky this room's soundproofed then, isn't it?" And they bend it back until there's an audible snap.

The man's howls echo around the interrogation room. Sam rolls their eyes as they wait for them to die away. They don't have time for this.

"I'll ask you again. Where. Is. Lucan?" When the officer shakes his head, panting for breath, Sam holds up another finger. His eyes widen. "No, please. Please don't. I don't know, I swear."

"Then how do we find out?"

"I– I need to radio the- the front desk."

Sam reaches into the officer's pocket and pulls out a walkie-talkie. "Here. Do it. And if they suspect anything, you can choose which finger goes next."

The officer swallows and presses a button on the walkie-talkie, sending it crackling to life. "Officer Walker here. I need some information on the destination of the faerie we picked up a few hours ago."

"Why do you need to know that?"

Sam squeezes Walker's finger in warning and he gulps, pained tears streaming down his face. "Figured it might speed up Johnson's confession if he knew he wasn't seeing him again.

The voice chuckles. "Good plan. I'll get back to you once I've found it." The walkie-talkie crackles out.

"Smooth liar," says Sam approvingly. That'll make things so much easier.

Walker whimpers and Sam snorts derisively. "Oh come on. It's not like I've broken your kneecaps. Raped you. Maimed you. I'm not you, after all. Pull yourself together."

"I– I've never done any of those things," he whispers.

"You've arrested people and knowingly handed them to those who do, that's as close as makes no difference."

Glass

CWs: minor whumpee, mentioned beating, non-con alcohol consumption

When Mrs Leach had returned the next morning she'd found them unconscious in a pile of uncleared rubbish, mess everywhere, a cut on their cheek from broken glass, and beaten them to a pulp for it.

Well. They don't remember being found. But they can still feel the clammy hand over their face, pinching their nose so he could pour the beer in, then clamping their mouth shut and not allowing them to breathe until they'd swallowed. They can still feel the burn of alcohol down their throat. The horrible queasiness and lack of control over themself and the pounding headache. The humiliation. They didn't think they'd ever be grateful for Mrs Leach.

They clutch their dad close, trying to dispel the memories still clinging to them. And their dad holds them just as tightly, running a hand through their hair.

"Iť's alright, Rowan, you're safe. Easy, kid, you're alright now. You're safe, I promise." He keeps up the litany of reassurances until Rowan can pull away, leaning against him instead, breathing in the crisp wintery air.

"Thanks."

"Not a problem. You want to go inside or stay out here for a bit?"

"I'm- I'm okay. We can go back."

Their dad nods, getting to his feet and pulling Rowan up with them, keeping an arm around their shoulders that they're incredibly grateful for.

Everyone looks around as they re-enter the living room, and Rowan shrinks a little against their dad.

Push

CWs: mentioned beating, possessions destruction, plushie abuse

Aaron's fuming as he makes his way up to Phoenix's team's quarters.

They jumped them. They fucking jumped them. Phoenix hasn't said as much, but between the jumpiness and not wanting to be left alone and the goddamn bootprint-shaped bruise on the small of their back it's obvious.

All those bruises, all over Phoenix's body. Aaron doesn't understand why they'd do it, not the night before Phoenix is due to leave. One last piece of fun?

Shaking their head, they push open the door to Phoenix's room. It's a mess. And not a Phoenix-mess, he'd recognise that anywhere after the amount they've made at his place, this is someone else's. They pick their way carefully through the scattered belongings, some of them dirty and torn, until they reach the wardrobe and pulls out a black camping rucksack. At least that's not damaged. They pull all the clothes remaining in the wardrobe and stuff them into the bag, then turn to survey the rest of the room.

There's no point trying to save the fairy lights, which have been ripped down and stamped on. He picks up the books he thinks he can save, most of which have missing pages or covers, but some are torn completely. There's no saving them.

Then they change their mind and pack those in anyway. Maybe Phoenix can fix them. Or they might want them anyway, even if they can't.

He strips the bed and covers, piling the colourful bedspread that was a gift from Kai into the bag as well as the massive fluffy blanket. The polaroids of the three of them they slip into a secure pocket.

Then they turn to the last remaining item, arm and foot torn off, stuffing pooling onto the mattress underneath. Mr Frosty. The only thing Phoenix has from when they were little, already repaired several times in his long life.

It's Aaron's turn to repair him this time.

He picks up the large plushy snowman and packs him away carefully, then gathers as much stuffing and loose plushy fabric as he can find, tucking it into another pocket.

That's everything then. There's a few pieces of clothing that would be impossible to repair, and the fairy lights of course, but other than that... Phoenix's life, packed into one not-quite-full rucksack. He shoulders it and turns to leave.

Abbie's standing in the doorway, arms folded, a smirk on her face.

I'm tagging @hold-him-down @whumpsday @quietly-by-myself @whither-wander-whump and anyone else who wants to take part! Your words are Box, Food, Hill, and Shine.

#tag game #snippets #sam makes an amazing caretaker turned whumper #its not for that long but honestly #whumpee and caretaker #caretaker and whumper #caretaker turned whumper

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rosesandmary · 2 years

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howdy howdy!

its me. tumblr user rosesandmary .

(aka navyt4tseal)

(aka pinkponydyke)

ryan or rosemary or opus. i go through a couple of other names.

he/she prns smile

system of 45+

pronouns page

people who know me irl, please do not follow.

really long winded ramble about me below cut. See rentry for an easier way of reading it.

rosesformary <- discord if u wanna talky :3

i rlly like answering asks so send them in smile i like talking about myself.

find my tagging system here

Interests:

JRWI (not caught up on riptide or pd, high chance i may never pick them up again. big fan of bitb!)

The Oh Hellos

The Crane Wives

MCYT (lesser, i still rb it from time to time)

Orchestra music

Slime Rancher

Slimecicle

Dwellers Empty Path + Escaped Chasm

Genshin (DISCLAIMER: I HATE HOYOVERSE !!!!)

Genshin UID: 634779589 (NA) 753404154 (EU)

Honkai: Star Rail

Honkai: Star Rail UID: 601322292 (NA)

Chappell Roan

Reverse: 1999

ALIEN STAGE

(boldes are main interests)

DISCLAIMERS

i am a vomit inducing queer. if you have a problem with that fuck off i dont care

i call myself slurs (dyke, faggot, tranny) as a form of reclamation and self-identification. leave if you dont like that

MASSIVE HATER AND COMPLAINER by following you are accepting that i will hatepost every week

whenever i use periods in typing, that does not mean im angry or anything. i just need something to separate sentences.

sending me hate asks will just get you blocked with no response unless i think its funny. go be childish somewhere else

IF i offend you please dm me in PRIVATE so that we can sort things out peacefully

@dyke-mart for alt posting \\ @warmermourning is my aesthetic sideblog \\ @foxfault is my alterhuman blog last edited April 15, 2024

BLINKIES / USERBOXES HERE

#rosemary rambles #pinned post

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thesoulesscollection · 2 years

Note

Hello! Hope you’re doing well.

If it sounds good, how about #22 (“you made your choice”) from the Whumptober prompts, please? Thank you either way!

Heya. I've been doing okay. Just dealing with a busy schedule and writer's block. I hope you're doing alright yourself.

Thank you for this request. It was really fun to write although once again I do apologize for the wait. Like always for anyone who's wondering, my ask box is open to be flooded. Either for this prompt list or anything else in particular.

Panprice with Toppat Dave x Government Rupert

Whump Prompt list is made by Whumptember

22nd - “You made your choice.”

lost love | double crossed | turning their back

Tw/Tags: Heavy Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, Whump, Friends/Lovers To Enemies, Ambiguous Relationships, & Unhappy Ending

Throughout his life, depressing as it was filled with continuous bad luck Dave made plenty of choices both good and bad so this shouldn't be any different.

"You made your choice"

Now he stood there rigid in his new attire, a plain, dark gray suit and top hat with the shiny brand new Toppat insignia pinned on to his coat jacket where he kept a blank face, "I did"

"Do you regret it? At all"

"No" Inwardly to his relief his voice stayed clear, emotionless in the face of possible danger as he stood his ground a good distance away, "I don't, Rupert"

Then unsurprisingly enough there came the immense hurt that swept over the gruff military agent, his stern expression broken by the seams and a smidgen of remorseful guilt kept Dave from comforting the shorter man.

"Not anymore at least. I would've gone mad if I kept waiting for someone to come rescue me from that hell… So I did it on my own. I needed to prove to myself I was in fact very capable of handling it without having somebody else doing it for me. In fact, I can protect myself quite well I don't need anyone even you"

"I. I would've kept you safe. I was so close… I didn't know where you were. Nobody did…" Rupert mumbled, quickly rubbing at his arms, "... You were everything to me. I. I lov-"

"I'm going to stop you right there. I know how you feel about me. I felt the same way at one point. We were close, yes. Once as best friends perhaps we could've been more at one point. Yet we aren't anything anymore. We grew apart over the years even before this and now we're on two different sides here…"

"Yo-We. I can change. I can be better. You can finally come back to us. To me. I'll find a way to make that happen, Dave, please" Pleading in desperation the Government officer stepped closer, his weapon having been thrown to the sidelines moments ago whereas Dave in utter shock attempted to conceal the physical recoil.

"No. I told you. I've made my choice. As illegal as it is to you" Dave spoke, mild grief seeping in when holding his palm flat on Rupert's chest, "You. You need to accept that"

"This is wrong, y'know that? You can't expect me to just forget you. To never stop caring about you"

"I know…" Dave shrugged limply since he didn't have much to say, "... I do wish you well"

Both knew he wasn't the man he once was and it took them a while to get used to the bitter taste. Dave hesitantly turned his back on the man, where in a rush to leave he kicked dust into the air leaving nothing more than a muddy cloud in his wake. In turn, Rupert hadn't bothered to make an attempt to arrest him per the job's order; he only picked up his discarded weapon on the floor. Painful disbelief simply kept the officer glued to his spot. The one thing that made him move was the static noise of his walkie-talkie breaking the saddened silence overwhelming him. Soon making his move, he trudged his booted feet on the stone floor behind him taking a swift exit, pushing the pain from his mind as he planned to not tell a soul over this encounter.

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blackberry-gingham · 2 years

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy | Wolverine x Fem!Reader

<... Prev | Chpt 3 | Next...>

Logan has a moment of introspection, not at all proud of the kind of man has he become. You on the other hand, continue to find worse and worse luck.

tag list: @samatedeansbroccoli @smokeywhalee @mickeyperkins @the-goon-tm @tolovaj (Wolverine tag list open to additions or reductions, whichever you prefer lol)

tags: slow burn, still on my bullshit with dad bod stuff, except THIS TIME we have a confident big guy, well "big" in as much as wolverine can be described as such, emotional hurt/comfort

---

Clang!

...Clang?

You nearly drop your half a music stand to the ground. That's nowhere near the sound you'd expect from metal to skull contact. Logan is out cold for now, giving you just enough time to take in the damage.

Your first clue was the shattered window in the back. The next one was the tearing and pounding sounds coming from the room over.

Your carpet is ruined. Your furniture is all but destroyed. Shit... You're getting evicted for sure.

Fuck fuck fuck! This guy is insane!

So many questions... All of them racing through your head at one.

What the hell is this guy on?, comes to mind for one. How did he find this place? And how did he manage all this? You look around some more. No weapons. No other guys.

Everything looks like it had a sword taken to it...

Logan groans and rubs his head. You look down and just barely catch it- Three long blades retract into his knuckles.

Mutant.

Your eyes go wide. Screaming would do you no good, besides... You're too petrified for much of any reaction at all right now. You drop your metal rod with a proper clang.

Sure you may not be that strong... but there's no way he should be coming to this fast.

Logan whips around at the sound. You back away slowly, ready to bolt. Well this isn't how he wanted to do things, but... He'll take it.

You don't make it far at all before he tackles you to the ground. Your back gives a little pop as it realigns from the force he jumps you with. He feels painfully heavy against your body, way more so then should be possible for something his size.

Holy shit, is this guy made of metal?

The thought crosses your mind briefly, but is soon washed away with fear and pain of another kind. Logan grips your arms roughly and flips you over with an inhuman growl.

"Let's make this easy... Who are you working for!"

"What? You know whe-!"

Logan shakes you roughly by the collar, "I said who!", He leans in menacingly, nose to nose with you, "Striker? Xavier?"

You try to shove him back, but he hardly budges, "Who? What the fuck are you talki-"

His patience has officially run out.

Wolverine snarls and unsheathes his claws a hair's breadth from your cheek, "Don't make me ask you again!"

You wriggle uncomfortably at the threat, but nothing can loosen you from his grip. Fuck, you can't even lift him off you. It crosses your mind that maybe you could lie. Is there something you could tell him that he wants to hear?

But... This doesn't seem like that type of situation.

"Look, I really don't know, alright!"

Logan growls low, but doesn't say anything. He gives you a sniff. After so many years of fighting and interrogating... He's learned what a lie smells like.

He licks his teeth and sheaths his claws. As much as he doesn't want to believe it...

Smells like you're telling the truth.

You're... You're telling...

The truth.

Stupefied, he lets you go slowly and sits up, glowering down at you all the while.

Fuck...

He's fucked up big time now.

You don't know anything. You're just a normal person... And he's betrayed his identity as a mutant to you. Worse then that, he's needlessly threatened you on top of it. Shit... Xavier would have his ass for this.

Fuck!

Without wasting another word, Logan clumsily launches off of you and sprints away.

You stay flat on your back. What... The fuck... Your head is so muddled with adrenaline and confusion... It feels like the room is spinning.

What do you do now?

This place is trashed beyond repair. Hell, might as well terminate your lease now. Not to mention there's a mutant on the loose around here. One that knows who you are and where you live.

With that revelation... Maybe getting out of here would be for the best.

You slowly turn over to lay on your stomach, burying your face in your arms.

Shit... This is bad.

You never understood all the hatred for mutants. Surely they're just like everyone else, right? Now, you're not so sure. Maybe that's not fair of you, but... That was one hell of a first meeting with one.

Little bastard destroyed the only home you could land, and is now effectively forcing you to get the hell out of this town.

Fuck... You don't even have time for a two week's notice. That, and- Well. You need the money from another paycheck, to be honest.

You heave a sigh and pick yourself up slowly. Looks like you'll be back to living out of your car.

The drive from town to home isn't all that long. Maybe he'd have been back sooner if he wasn't so busy trying to clear his head.

Logan jumps out into the snow. Pacing and growling, he kicks a pile of the icy powder and sends it flying. Fuck, he doesn't know what to think... He paces once, then twice more and turns in a tight circle before taking a seat in the packed down snow.

A little barrier of the stuff surrounds him. He folds his arms on top of his knees and rests his chin. Outside is always a good place for thinkin', especially way out here with nothing around.

For the first time in a long time, he takes a long, deep breath. In.... Out....

God... How did he even get here? How did he let things go this far?

He admits, patience has never been his strong suit. His skills at reasoning.... Also weakness. Two of many things the professor was trying to help him work on.

Now look at him.

Haunted by paranoia, chasing enemies that aren't there. Hell, he just terrorized and attacked an innocent woman. In her own home, too.

Logan shakes out his head aggressively.

What the hell is wrong with him? He's never been this bad before... Maybe he's been giving in too much.

Too much fighting. Too much fucking around. Too much doing whatever the hell he wants.

He may be sick of fighting the X-Men's wars but... At least that place forced him to have some structure. Some integrity.

And now? What's become of him now... Now that he has just a little freedom for himself?

He ain't gotta look far.

Don't think it escapes him, the way he has to arch his back a little to get his chin to his knees.

Don't think he doesn't notice how he's gotta angle his legs apart to make room for his stomach.

It don't bother him much, but...

Don't think he's forgotten how he used to be, neither.

Back when he had shit to do. Back when he had people to push him to be better. Back when he gave a fuck.

He hunches his shoulders at that. Damn…. Is that true? Has he really given up that bad?

It’s hard being like this, you know. Just… being the way that he is.

So full of anger and no way to vent it out. It builds and builds and builds… And all it leaves him with are these insatiable urges. To hurt. To fight. To kill. How easy would it be, to just let it all go…

No more temperance. No more discipline. No more heroes…

It would be so easy. He could be like Sabretooth. A fucking monster… but free.

Logan heaves a deep sigh and lays back against the snowy bank. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine a life like that. Running wild, like the other ferals. Doing whatever he wants. Going whenever he wants. Hell, taking whatever he wants.

He furrows his brow for a moment, then shakes his head. Shit… He can’t do it. Can't even picture it.

Doesn't want to.

Maybe there’s a little part of him that clings to the professors idealism, and all the bullshit and integrity he’s had instilled into him...

Maybe he figures, he’s gotta stand for something in this fucked up world… might as well be the right cause.

But then, maybe…

There’s that tiny voice, buried so deep down he hasn’t got a clue where it’s coming from. It’s the part of him that let him latch onto the X-Men and what they stand for in the first place, he supposes. The small part of him that just wants…

Acceptance.

To fit in.

To mean something, anything, to anyone at all.

All his life… his long, long, fucking life- He’s been on his own. Bounce around from town to town. Go somewhere new where no one ever knows his name. Live on the edge of nowhere, just to have a little bit of freedom to be himself.

His real self.

Logan brings up a hand, watching all the whole as he flexes a fist. Snikt.

He stares at those claws… His face growing tighter and tighter as his thoughts build.

Would it be so bad for him to be who he is? An average man with above average abilities? He ain’t askin’ much… Just a little bit of rest. A little bit of peace. Some company.

No more fighting. No more enemies. No more fear…

His eyes narrow. The sky seems so bright.

The other guys got it good, you know. Scott. Remy. Charles. Bobby…. It would be so easy for them to turn it all off. Put aside the mutant shit. Integrate with the humans.

Not him.

Even the humans got it good. Sure, it’s shit being caught in the mutant crossfire, but… It’s not always that bad.

It’s normal.

It’s fulfilling.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted…

Why can’t he have that huh? Be normal? Happy? Have a good, boring life and live and die with the people he loves just like everyone else?

Is that too much to ask? Is that so fucking ha-

Logan screws his eyes shut, the light finally getting to him. A small wet droplet threatens the corner of his eye. Fuck… He wipes it away and jumps up out of the snow.

Thinking too much… He shakes his head out, and then his body, freeing himself of the snow before he stomps inside.

He needs a drink.

You pack the last of your belongings and wrestle them into your car. Now you've got a massive fee for damages and no explanation in your defense. Damn.

At least you're all set up in time for your shift tonight.

Even with the hustle and noise of work, your mind is trapped elsewhere. You should never have left home to begin with. How stupid can you be? This was never going to work, even back then you suspected as much.

You drag your feet all night long.

All you have to do is make enough to pay off your remaining debts and get a little something to hold you over so you can leave. If only you had a clue how long that would be... As much as you'd love to quit right now, even just put in a two week notice-

You don't think it'll be quite that fast.

Right now, you just have to hope you never see that mutant again. Even the thought of him makes your blood boil. The fucker ruined your life and fledgling reputation around here... Didn't even get a chance to set anchor.

It's almost funny. You never thought leaving town over one person was a real thing before now.

With all the thoughts and fears running through his head, it's not for a few days yet until Logan comes back to town. Try as he might like to stay out of your path... He can't resist the allure of his favorite place. Especially when he's feeling this low.

The sight of your car outside is nearly enough to make him think twice.

Shit... Well. Maybe he'll get lucky. In and out. Maybe you won't see him.

Although... That was assuming he didn't see you first.

"Fuck off!", You smack away the hands of an unwelcome patron. It's been a long night of serving drinks, not different then all the rest, but... You've never had a bad experience with the drunks before.

Logan smells the alcohol seeping out of the guy even from there. He watches you strut off. You exclaim that you quit. This place was always a little too rough anyway.

The big guy isn't having it.

He grabs your wrist. You wrench away and blast past the man, Logan, and the door, all in a few angry seconds. It's not much longer at all that the drunk follows you out, shouting and taunting some obscenities.

Logan's seen this one before... Not a pretty picture. The drink can wait. He tails the two of you outside.

No claws no claws no claws....

"Hey! Why don't you leave the girl alone bub?"

The bigger man turns for a moment, but clearly doesn't take much threat, "Why don't you go back inside, eh?"

Logan stomps his way over as the agitator turns back around to you... followed silently by a group of watchers.

He grabs him by the wrist, the wrist that was heading for your person, and jerks him around.

"I'm not known for my patience", Logan growls, "And I sure as hell don't ask twice", he punches a fist into his palm.

Crack!

The other man throws a punch across Logan's jaw. His head snaps to the side. Didn't hurt. A great drunken roar goes up from nearby. Looks like the asshole has friends.

"Get lost runt! I saw her first"

They all laugh.

Cheap shots huh? His favorite.

All it takes is one punch... And the whole scene ignites.

You run, just far enough to get out of dodge. Meanwhile, a whole calamity befalls your little mutant friend. A small gang of men twice his size lay into him.

Ain't a problem... Or, it wouldn't be if he popped his claws.

He's not gonna let em hurt ya'... But he can't give away his identity neither.

The fight goes on for longer then you'd like. Logan gets in a lot of good shots... But the bigger guys are either too drunk or too tough to care all that much. Just when things look bad, they get worse. The little mutant is overwhelmed.

They stomp him into the snow. Pound his head and face and bones to a pulp. The ice turns red with blood. And when they're done with him, all nearly just as bloodied and beaten... They turn to you.

The leader wipes a stream of blood off his lips. He looks at you a long time... Then, "Forget it... The bitch ain't worth it"

"Here, have your little rat back", one of the others kicks Logan across the snow. He rolls over twice and stops pathetically.

When they're gone... You can breathe again.

Logan grunts, just a few feet away. Damn, he looks bad... You inch closer.

You haven't forgotten what he did, but... You're not going to ignore what he's just done for you either. He struggles for a moment, then drops back down, inciting you to come the rest of the way over.

Carefully, you brush some hair out of his face, just to get a better look. Your hand comes back wet with blood. Shit...

You look down at him. And over to your car.

Wouldn't it be easier to just... Leave? This isn't your problem, after all.

You look back down at the little mutant. Shit.

"Can we get some help out here!", you stay by his side and call back towards the bar.

#phew #finally got this one out skskskks #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader

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