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loveinhawkins · 1 year

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There’s a strange lull after the Upside Down is sealed shut, after it’s all over; Steve can see everyone struggling with it, particularly Eddie: it’s not like a town goes from vilifying you to doubling back on everything overnight.

Hawkins is quiet, ghostly. And yet, somehow Steve and Robin still have their jobs at Family Video—Steve is torn between laughing at the absurdity of it and being grateful for the familiarity. Every few shifts or so, Eddie will show up, uncharacteristically quiet, usually grabbing a chair in the back, out of view from the customers; Steve will take his lunch break there just so they can chat, unless Eddie has fallen asleep. Steve starts to suspect that the main reason Eddie comes is just so he can listen to the background noise of Robin and Steve: working, gossiping, teasing each other.

But Eddie seldom joins in on the banter himself. He seems jaded, worn around the edges; and there’s a shade of uncertainty to his now rare smiles. It doesn’t suit him, Steve thinks.

He gets the idea on a closing shift, five minutes till they can officially lock the doors to customers. The store is already empty, so Eddie has left the back room to instead perch on the counter, eyes vacant.

With a sudden spring in his step, Steve shuts the blinds prematurely. “Hey, Rob,” he calls across, “five minutes till showtime.”

Robin blinks uncomprehendingly for a second before giving a blinding grin. “Oh, you’re on.”

When was the last time we did this? Steve wonders. They’d come up with the routine together, during one of their first closing shifts here. It feels like a lifetime ago.

He keeps an eye on his watch, counting the minutes down, then makes a show of locking the doors. He smiles when Robin turns the radio on full blast at precisely the moment that he flips the sign to ‘Closed.’

He sees Eddie look up in vague curiosity at the sound. The DJ is currently chatting, and when Robin rolls her eyes, “Ugh, come on,” Eddie gives a quiet snort.

“You good, Buckley?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, “she’s just impatient.”

He narrowly avoids a VHS case to the head; he ducks, then chuckles at Eddie’s bemusement, Robin’s smile of anticipation.

The DJ plays a little jingle…

…And then the unmistakeable intro to Cyndi Lauper’s ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ fills the store.

Steve whoops. “Yes.”

Eddie tilts his head—still confused, but a little smile tugs at his lips, like he can’t help it. “What are you…?”

He trails off as Steve starts to skip his way down an aisle, tidying away tapes along to the beat, with all the theatricality of Broadway. Robin cheers like she’s watching a live concert.

Eddie is staring in disbelief; Steve winks, unabashedly over the top.

Showtime.

Steve mouths along to the lyrics—vaulting over the counter, Eddie scrabbling out of the way with a hilarious yelp, he grabs the phone in time for ‘The phone rings in the middle of the night,’ and if he puts even more feeling into ‘My father yells, ‘What you gonna do with your life?’’, well, it’s all part of the performance.

By the time the song ends, he’s breathless, and Robin is cheering herself hoarse, and Eddie—

Eddie is beaming.

“Jesus Christ,” he says, with hushed delight. He’s looking at Steve like he just hung the moon and the stars, eyes sparkling. “What the fuck was that, Harrington? This is the best day of my life.”

Robin is cackling. “Right? The first time he did it—”

“The first time?!”

“—I wanted to, like, invent time travel, just so I could tell myself, hey, one day you’re gonna watch Steve Harrington lipsync.”

Eddie is cracking up, laughing so hard he almost falls off the counter. It’s the most relaxed he’s been in ages, surely the happiest Steve has ever seen him. “There’s no way anyone would’ve believed you.”

“Rude,” Steve says, ruffling some fingers through his hair to fix the flyaway strands. “I’ve honed these skills for years.” He catches Eddie’s eye, winking again. “You’ve not even seen my ABBA moves.”

Yeah, Steve thinks, catching his breath before another song begins. He smiles softly—Eddie’s continuous giggles are a triumph. There you are.

#and a few songs later he has eddie singing along <3 #let steve be silly and have fun agenda <3 #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve and robin #eddie and robin

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urarakasdiary · 18 days

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- THE ETERNAL FOUNTAIN OF LOVE

Plantonic Dabi with his little sister! that suddenly turns yandere? sorry, I can't write anything cute.

First of all, Im so sorry for this long ass hiatus I wanted to get back to writing but I was going through some shit for the past year and a half 🥲 Im gonna try my best to get back to writing from now onwards. Enjoy! <3

Dabi never really liked you ever since his parents brought you home that day. He didn't want to admit it, but he wanted all the attention his dad could give only to himself. The attention was already torn away from him because of Shoto, you coming into the picture would make him invisible in the eyes of his father, which enraged him.

Of course, you were adopted; Rei could not handle another pregnancy. The day you came home, everyone noticed it. Touya's even more unusual behavior. He was staring daggers into your soul, cursing under his breath. He had thought why was he like this to you? Was he jealous? no way. You were just annoying. At least to him.

His father was a busy man, he would not visit the home often. Rei was sent away after the incident, Natsuo would go to school, and so would Fuyumi. That would leave him and you alone. He didn't think he would like spending any time with you alone, but you were actually kind of cute...and sweet? maybe even a breath of fresh air from his wild family? maybe it was because you were adopted, all his siblings tried their best to be kind and gentle with him, often keeping opinions about him to themselves and not pointing out his mistakes in fear of pissing him off. But you? god you ran your mouth so much with no hesitation.

You would be the first person to point out something wrong or mean he did or said. And you did it with no fear of him whatsoever. Growing up, he realized he loved you. You were the only partially sane person in this household.

"I will burn you so bad that even hell's fire will feel better than my flames"

"Touya-nii don't say that! that's mean. You should start taking classes on how to speak to people without making them piss their pants."

You were also the reason why he stayed home that cursed day. (The day he 'died'). You needed help with homework and asked him for help. He had not gone to school, ever. But since it was you who was asking, he learned it from YouTube just to teach you.

When you were in middle school some bullies learned you were adopted, and from then on they started picking and cursing at you. Some days the bullying was mild, somedays they would flush your face in the toilet bowl. You stayed quiet hoping they would change one day or another. But you could only handle so much.

Mental breakdowns were a familiar thing to you now, maybe even a friend who would visit often. Touya had picked up on your odd behavior, he shook it off for some days thinking it was a bad day or shit. But when the 'bad days' seemed more frequent, his worry grew.

He had you explain everything that was going on in detail. How could he have just shaken off your odd behavior? He didn't deserve to be your brother.

Maybe he was obsessive over his sister, but he was just looking after her.

Bullseye. He found them.

"Heard you girls love calling my sister names?"

"3 girls found dead at local playground, burned to death. Investigation launched on the 8th of April, no evidence or traces left behind, police suspect..."

He didn't expect the reaction you were giving from the news. He thought you would be happy, instead, you were crying yourself a river.

"Don't cry [name], come here"

You embraced yourself in the warmth of your brother, unsuspecting of anything.

"I'll always be there for you."

#bnha #mha #dabi #dabi x reader #touya #touya x reader #yandere #platonic #platonic touya x reader #todoroki family #yandere platonic dabi #yandere platonic touya #urarakasdiary #bnha x reader #what did i just write #yandere platonic touya x reader #yandere platonic dabi x reader #platonic yandere

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skyloftian-nutcase · 10 months

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Finding Light + Snippet (LU in Healthcare)

(@hermitdrabbles56 @squigglywindy @alasse-earfalas)

(AO3 link)

Legend yawned as he entered the emergency department, energy drink in hand. He felt incredibly sluggish and worn out, torn in different directions between multiple shifts. Not to mention yesterday's fiasco - one day off in between multiple stretches of work never felt like enough. It was barely the amount of time needed to just get his head above water most days, and it figured that his one night off was the one that Warriors decided to drunk text him.

He still didn't know what was wrong with his new friend. People made dumb decisions and got wasted all the time, and it wouldn't surprise him if Wars was one of those people, but in the car... it had definitely seemed like there was more to it.

Sighing, Legend took another swig of his energy drink, pinching his nose to fight the oncoming headache. He didn't have energy to parse this out. All he knew was that Warriors was gone before he'd gotten up the next day. The military nurse had folded the blanket and left a thank you note and hadn't said two words to him since, despite a text he'd sent this afternoon.

Passing by the waiting room, Legend saw that there was a large group of people waiting. Dread weighed heavily in his stomach. Great. More fun times cleaning up day shift's mess - a room full of people who had been waiting for hours meant everyone would be annoyed, and they'd have to start doing protocol orders just to get things moving since the doctors were lagging. He hoped he wouldn't get triage.

As he wandered into the staff room, he caught sight of Warriors, who was staring at his phone absentmindedly. Legend immediately made his way over to him.

"Hey," he said quietly.

Wars glanced up, his face neutral, and then he gave a small smile. "Hey. Thanks for last night, sorry to put you in that position."

"Yeah, about that--"

"Did you see the waiting room?" he continued, barreling over Legend's words. "Tonight's going to be busy to start."

Before Legend could continue, the charge nurse entered and started huddle. "Hey, everyone, happy Friday! We have 100 patients in the department, 34 in the waiting room. Staffing's pretty good tonight, we're only down one nurse and two techs. Here are the assignments."

Legend bit his tongue as Warriors was assigned the behavioral health unit, and he himself was assigned the 300 block. He'd hunt his friend down later.

XXX

It was quiet. But it was a different kind of quiet from home. Home was solitary, quiet with gentle nature but also isolation. Beautiful and lonely, peaceful and too still all at once. But here it was a warm quiet, like the comfortable silence one felt while resting with friends and family.

The stained glass spilled colors into the area, bathing him in blues and greens and reds as the sun continued to set. A few candles were lit in around little shrines and statues, and one notable one in the center over the altar.

Sky sighed, trying to breathe in the peace of this place.

He wasn't entirely sure what was wrong with him. Things were better than they used to be. He wasn't spending one day to the next wondering if he'd live or die. He wasn't separated from friends and family. Sure, he was more distant from those he'd bonded with over the last couple years, but... was that... was that what was wrong? That he'd trauma bonded with those people and now they were less prominent in his life?

He didn't know. He was just tired. He was always tired now.

He hated it.

Sun had suggested he go home, but he wasn't sure. She wasn't there anymore anyway, so what was left for him? Instead, he tried looking up somewhere familiar to go, somewhere safe. A cabin in the mountains was familiar, away from people was safe. He loved it there.

But it was so damn quiet. But he wanted quiet. He was exhausted dealing with people but he wanted to be around people. But everything was so new and different here. He'd chosen this city because it was the only place a pilot's position was available, and in such a familiar capacity too. He hadn't...

He hadn't expected to see them. Any of them. But they were so happy to see him, and he hadn't known what to make of that either. Why would they be happy? He'd abandoned them.

He couldn't lie to himself and say that it didn't mean the world to him, though. But he felt guilty about that too, because now they wanted to spend time with him and catch up with him, and he just sat there and soaked up the attention and barely asked anything in return.

He felt like lately he just took and took and took. He had nothing to give.

He had nothing to give.

Sky slid to his knees, leaning heavily on the pew in front of him. Give me light. Give me hope. I can't give to others if I don't have any for myself. Please...

Give me hope. Give me hope.

He didn't know how to fix this. He didn't even know if he could. All he knew was he felt his life draining out of him, like he was bleeding from an invisible wound.

This was so stupid. He had no right to feel this way.

You have every right to feel this way, a voice whispered, a quiet reminder in the hurricane of thoughts in his mind. Sky took a shuddering breath, holding it as his world froze a moment.

Then he huffed out a tired laugh, relenting as he stared at the lit candle. "Fine. You're right."

Didn't make it any easier to deal with, though.

Sky's phone buzzed, and he looked at it distractedly before gazing back at the altar, silently asking for permission. Then he sat on the pew once more, checking his text message.

SKY HI you wanna get ice cream?? just got out of class and it's SO FRIGGING MUGGY EW I NEED ICE CREAM LET'S GET SOME

Sky smiled, Wind's excitement being infectious even through a simple speech bubble. Then he looked back at the candle, watching it flicker gently, before his gaze drifted down to the golden little doorway hidden from view by a veil.

"Thanks," he said softly before getting up to meet with Wind.

XXX

The first thing Hyrule thought when he pulled up to the house was this is going to be a pain to extricate her if she can't walk.

They were dispatched for someone withdrawing from their medication. The woman was reportedly unable to walk. She was on the second floor of a two-story home that had a gravel driveway and uneven paved steps leading up to the front porch.

Just as he was grabbing the stair chair, however, Mo, who had entered first alongside the fire department, waved him off. "Fire's going to help her walk out here. We just need to get the stretcher ready."

Relieved, the medic put the stair chair away in the side compartment of the ambulance and helped his partner prep the stretcher as the firefighters approached with the patient. One of the firefighters was carrying a couple of the woman's supplies - a large pink trash bag filled with items and a purse. As Hyrule and Mo lifted the patient and stretcher into the ambulance, the firefighter deposited the items on the bench seat. Hyrule thanked his fellow first responders and then hopped in the back to assist Mo.

Thankfully, despite the woman's distress and uncomfortable symptoms, she wasn't in dire need. While a trip to the hospital was necessary for her, Hyrule didn't have to be the one to do it. The 12-lead was unremarkable and her vitals were within defined limits. Mo gave him a thumbs up, and Hyrule hopped out of the truck to drive while Mo ran the call. Hyrule merrily listened to the radio, keeping a careful listening ear out in case his partner needed anything, and drove them to the hospital.

Upon their arrival, Hyrule told dispatch they were at the ER, walked to the back of the truck and opened the doors and saw Mo putting the patient's enormous trash bag on her lap. Confused, he was about to ask why his partner didn't just place the bag behind the patient - they had a little cubby behind the back of the stretcher where they could place things, after all. It seemed rude to put that on her lap.

But then Mo placed the purse on the woman as well. And then another bag of belongings. And then a trash bag filled with toiletries. And then a clear bag filled with shampoos and conditioners. And then another bag filled with more clothes.

Hyrule stared as the patient progressively disappeared beneath enough personal items to fill a luggage rack in a hotel - heck, the patient had become the luggage rack in a hotel. Hyrule tried his absolute hardest to not laugh, but the patient was out of sight and he kept making eye contact with Mo, who was looking increasingly more exasperated.

He supposed the firefighters had brought a few more personal items than he'd realized.

As the pair wheeled in their pile of luggage (and somewhere in its midst was their patient), Hyrule was half tempted to tell the charge nurse they were checking in for the night.

It only got better when he realized they were giving report to Legend, whose eyebrows immediately rose to his hairline as they entered.

#writing #lu in healthcare #when I tell you that fire brought half this lady's house with her #I was laughing so hard #I felt like a bellhop #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu legend #lu warriors #lu sky #lu hyrule #I wanted to write more but ran out of steam so oh well #I really want ice cream now #it's so hot and muggy blegh

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my-own-walker · 1 year

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Hi, I'm sorry to bother you but I wanted to ask you if you could write a fic or a long one-shot about Colin Zabel (I don't know if you saw Mare of Eastown).

The story line would be this: Colin asks YN out because Mare rejected him (basically the scene happened where he thought they were on a date and she just wanted to talk about the case).

YN agrees to go on the date. They start going out several times. At one point she finds out that Colin asked her out on a date out of spite (bc of the Mare thing). So she confronts him and tells him that she liked him, she gets angry because she feels he played with her feelings. And then Colin tries to fix the situation because, during the several dates, he realizes that he started to like YN.

And, if enough, make like an epilogue where they are a happy family (Colin and YN).

Too long. Sorry.

On The Other Line - Part 1

sure can! (it’s never too long, anon. much love)

warnings: spoiler alerts possible ahead for mare of easttown, mentions of violence against women, mentions of death, light sm*t/some steamy moments, some misogyny (it's really true to the area so i include it lightly)

author's note: i just so happen to know the delco area VERY well so expect me to nerd out on this one. accents, slang, food, everything will be very accurate. mare of easttown was pretty true to delco, but i can make it better. evan fucking nailed the accent, as he always does, btw.

+++

Being from Easttown meant that seeing someone new in town was a headline-worthy event.

So when Detective Colin Zabel showed up to help out with the Erin McMenamin case, everyone and their mom-moms were talking about it. Gossiping about the case and just how bad it was, considering the fact that they called in backup.

I'll admit it, I engaged in the gossip. My Uncle Nick owned the bar in town and would tell me all about what he heard about the case. He's worse than a chick, I'll tell you that.

Now I had no personal connection to the case. I knew of Erin but not enough to really be torn up about the whole thing. It was scary, yeah, being a woman in town after one was missing and another was dead, but I couldn't be bothered with tears. I didn't want to face the fact that things were getting scary.

I worked as a librarian. Something about reading called to me. It was great to escape from the disgusting world I found myself living in. One where women were being brutalized just minutes from my home. I have always been a sucker for escapism.

My Uncle Nick's bar became a landing place for me most nights. I was afraid to go back to my apartment alone. I didn't have a car so I'd have to walk. The bar was only half a mile from the library, and my apartment was 2 miles away. The bar was the better choice considering everything going on.

I'd help out serving sometimes. Other times I'd just sit behind the bar and talk to the patrons. Then my uncle would drive me home in his truck. I didn't mind helping out if it meant that I was safe.

It was a Thursday night. Around 10 pm. I was doing my usual routine of sitting behind the bar after work, talking to the familiar faces that always came by. At this bar, there were only regulars.

That was until I saw Colin Zabel walk through the front door.

It was like seeing a celebrity. I silently wondered if he was here to question somebody about the case. I picked up my book and began to read it, trying to send an innocent bystander vibe.

He walked over to the bar and slumped himself down on the seat nearest to me.

'Fuck.' I thought.

My Uncle Nick walked over to Colin and set down a coaster in front of him.

'Just a PBR, please?' Colin said as he looked up.

'Draft or can?' my uncle replied.

'Can, please,' Colin answered, rubbing his temple with his hand.

'PBR?' I scoffed from my seat. 'Colin Zabel. Could you fulfill the Delco trash stereotype more, please?'

'Wh-what?' he stuttered while smiling, looking up in awe at my directness.

'You couldn't pick a trashier beer,' I continued putting down my book on the bar next to him. 'Plus, if you're gonna get it, get the draft dude. It at least looks classier.' I leaned forward on the stool I was sitting on, resting my elbows on the bar in front of me and placing my chin in my hands.

'Yo, I've had a rough night, cut me some slack,' he laughed.

'Rough night or not, I'd never go into a bar for the first time and order a PBR. Complete jerkoff move, Zabel.'

'Okay, youse around here know my name and it's gettin' weird. And how do you know this is my first time in here,' he chuckled.

'Oh sorry I'm bein' rude. I'm Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. You are kinda famous around here, detective. And my uncle owns this place. I'd know if you'd been in here before,' I smirked.

As if on cue, Uncle Nick returned, reaching around me to place the can in front of Colin.

'Makin' friends, hun?' my uncle asked, patting my right shoulder.

'Only always,' I replied, smiling up at him. He walked away, shaking his head at me.

'Well, Y/N, you're very forward, huh?' he suggested as he sipped his drink.

I guess I was. The bar was sort of my domain. I talked to every patron like that. After all, everyone that was in there was either my teacher, classmate, doctor, or employer at one time. I knew everyone so I acted like it. And I knew of Colin so I felt like I could talk to him like that. Totally forgot he was a complete stranger.

'But you liked it, though,' I quipped back. He simply laughed and shook his head, casting his eyes down.

'What brings you here, anyways?' I asked.

'Closest bar to the restaurant I was just at,' he shrugged.

'Didn't get enough to drink there?' I challenged. He looked up and met my eyes. His were a deep brown. He looked sad.

'Oh, it was a trainwreck,' he sipped his drink again.

'Don't care to elaborate, hm?' I asked. He just shook his head.

'Y'know, Y/N? I'm feeling really bold right now,' Colin started, making eye contact with me again. 'Would you wanna go out sometime? Y'know what? Maybe tomorrow. Lunchtime?'

I was taken aback. 'You're pretty forward yourself, Zabel.'

'You're pretty and I feel like it would just be fun,' he continued.

'Oh, I'm just pretty?' I replied, feigning shock.

'Oh shut up,' he laughed as he pushed my forearm lightly.

After exchanging numbers and chatting some more he left. Over text, we agreed to meet in the park at lunchtime to talk. He'd provide the coffee, he promised.

The next day I walked to work with more pep in my step than usual. I was even singing a little when putting books back on shelves. It had been a while since I'd been on a date. He was really cute so I couldn't help but be excited.

I got to the park earlier than we'd agreed upon, but that motherfucker still beat me there. He was holding two cups of coffee and was dressed smartly in a long tweed grey coat.

'You're eager, Zabel!' I called across the park as I walked upon him.

'You're early, too, miss,' he replied, raising an eyebrow and pulling me in for a hug. When we separated he handed me one of the cups. 'Oat milk for you, my dear.'

I smiled. He remembered a passing comment I made the night before.

We started to walk, talking about everything under the sun. I tried not to ask too much about his work, with the case being so sensitive, and all. We came up on a playground. There was a blonde woman sitting on a bench nearby, obviously watching a young child.

Colin suddenly grabbed my hand and pulled me closer. The gesture gave me butterflies in my stomach. Walking closer to the bench, the blonde woman looked up and waved. Colin waved back and flashed his best closed-lip smile.

"Colin, hey,' the woman said. "About la-'

'Mare, this is Y/N,' Colin drew nearer to me and kissed my cheek. I blushed heavily.

'H-hi," I started.

'Y/N, this is Mare. She used to be on the Erin McMenamin case with me,' he snipped, gesturing his hand toward her. She rolled her eyes and went back to watching the child on the playground.

'I don't have time for this today, Colin,' Mare said, dismissing us.

We walked away just a far enough distance out of her earshot before I said, 'she's a fuckin' ray of sunshine.'

'Quite a woman,' Colin replied, looking back at her, still not letting go of my hand.

The rest of the date went super well. So well, in fact, that I didn't stop bothering him. I texted him every day, every second I could get the chance.

He returned the energy…somewhat. He was a busy man, being on the police force after all. I didn't think too much of it.

We planned to go back out again on that Sunday for lunch.

'Hey, pretty,' he breathed as he took his jacket off. I beat him to the restaurant. I won, this time. He sat down in the seat across from me.

He called me pretty. My face felt hot. He seemed to really be into me. And I felt the same.

The meal was great. We continued to get to know each other and I really started catching feelings for him. I invited him back to my apartment after and he said yes.

The inside of my apartment was, I'll say it, pretty strangely decorated. I'm a lover of all things fun and odd, and my interior design choices reflected it. For example, my couch was royal purple, and I had billiard balls in a decorative bowl on my cowboy-themed coffee table. I refused to use overhead lighting so everything was lit a warm yellow and striking blue, thanks to the lights I bought off Amazon.

The best part, and my shining accomplishment, my bed was heart-shaped. So me and so weird. I think it came from a strip club. I found the frame and mattress discarded on the side of the road. Score.

I could tell Colin was shocked by the way he was looking around. He shrugged his coat off and placed it on one of the clown hooks by the door.

'I know it's weird bu-' I started.

'No, Y/N, this place is really...stellar. It has personality, for sure,' he assured me. He continued to wander around, looking at my things.

I started to feel kind of shy in my own home. Like this man was fully in my apartment and I had the fattest crush on him. If there was one thing about me, though, I wasn’t shy. I decided that the best and only way to power through it was to kiss him, so I did.

He tensed at first, not expecting the contact, but soon relaxed into it, placing his hands on my waist and pulling me into him.

I pulled away. ‘Sorry, I just- like-‘

‘No it’s okay, I liked it,’ he grinned. ‘You’re fucking cool, Y/L/N.’

‘I mean I don’t fight crime for a living but-‘ I started but was promptly cut off by Colin’s lips on mine again. Sweet kisses turned more passionate as I started to lead him to my bedroom.

I fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. He pulled my cardigan down off my shoulders. When we reached the bedroom I tugged his shirt off and threw it behind him, demonstratively. He grabbed the bottom hem of my camisole and pulled it over my head, exposing my black lace bra.

It was then that he noticed my bed.

‘No, you’re fuckin’ joking,’ he laughed, walking towards it and hopping up on it. ‘Are we about to fuck like 70s porn stars right now? A heart-shaped bed?’ His smirk was so cute.

I didn’t reply. Instead I attacked him with kisses, crawling into his lap. I felt his hard-on in his pants below me. I straddled his thighs and pushed him down gently into a laying position.

‘Y/N….fuck,’ he moaned as I peppered kisses down his chest and stomach, stopping at the waistband of his pants. I slowly unbuttoned them, making him wait for it. He helped me tug them off of his legs. I placed my hand on his cock through his underwear and waited as if to ask permission. ‘Please,’ he mustered.

I reached in and pulled it out, immediately taking him in my mouth. He muttered every curse word under the sun as I continued to blow him.

We spent the rest of the day in my bed. Our time was used talking, then having sex, then talking again. Repeating the cycle until I was thoroughly convinced that I was in love with him.

He left me around 10 that night and for some reason, I felt empty. Cold. It was an odd feeling considering the ecstasy I has experienced all day. I put it down to being tired.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

+++

Okayyyyy yay!!! That was part 1 of two in this lil series. Thanks anon again for the request. Sorry if it felt rushed in some points. I was trying not to make this thing like 400 parts. I get wordy at times. Part 2 hopefully will be here tomorrow!!

#colin zabel #colin zabel x reader #mare of easttown #evan peters fic #evan peters #evan peters x female reader

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star-going-supernova · 9 months

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Could you do a chapter where Gregory is held by knife point by Vanny, Vanessa’s sister, and it’s up to Freddy, the animatronics, and Vanessa to save him, and the reason Vanny kidnapped him was that she was the heir to be the CEO of Fazbear Entertainment?

Here we have tumblr generated prompt number 26! This one comes from Damien M on ao3. I will admit, I took some hefty creative liberties with this one because I wasn’t really sure what Vanny threatening Gregory has to do with her being the CEO’s heir. I also went with my go-to name for Vanny-as-Vanessa’s-sister instead.

Evil Twin

Vanessa hastily raised her hands and backed up. “Okay, okay, see? Look, I’m not coming any closer.”

“None of us are,” Freddy said, solemn and tense, and Vanessa felt awful for him. This couldn’t be an easy thing for Freddy to witness.

Or herself, to be honest. It was jarring to see your identical twin sister hold a knife to a teenager’s neck. To Gregory’s neck. That was how Vanessa would look if she ever…

“What do you want, Vanity?” she asked as gently as she could. Her sister had always had a worse temper; they couldn’t afford to set her off.

Vanity, who was looking concerningly twitchy, sneered at her. “What do you think I want, Ness? I want my birthright that you stole. I’m the older twin, so I should be Uncle Tristen’s heir.”

This again, Vanessa groaned internally. It’d been a sore point for years, had halfway torn their family apart. “I didn’t steal it,” she said automatically, the argument familiar. “We’re not even the eldest of Uncle Tristen’s nieces and nephews. It wasn’t about being the oldest.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Vanity shrieked. The knife jerked, scratching across Gregory’s neck, but he didn’t make a sound. His eyes were still hazy from the hit to his head, visibly wandering over the ceiling. He looked just barely able to stay on his feet. “It still should’ve been mine!”

Guilt weighed heavily on her. Gregory wouldn’t be in danger if it hadn’t been for her. She was a volunteer at the library, part of a mentorship program. It looked good on college applications and it pleased the FE board to see she was involved in the community. She’d been Gregory’s mentor for two years now, since they were eighteen and eleven respectively. Now she was a year away from starting to intern under her uncle, and this late night trip to the pizzaplex was a weekly thing for her and Gregory. She’d promised his parents months ago that it was safe.

She hadn’t expected her grudge-holding sister to show up, and certainly not with a knife.

They all waited in tense silence for Vanity to calm down a little. She blew out a breath, then turned a too-wide smile at Vanessa. “It should’ve been mine,” she repeated. “So I’m here to fix Uncle Tristen’s oversight.”

Trembling, Vanessa shook her head. “Vanity… it’s not my choice. I can’t give it to you—”

Vanity’s crazed laughter cut her off. “Don’t be silly, stupid. I’m not here to make an exchange with you. I’m here to make sure Uncle Tristen can’t choose you.”

Freddy shifted unhappily, just a little behind Vanessa. Foreboding rose up in her. “What do—”

“No one would be willing to trust FE to a child murderer.” Vanity giggled, and that was when Vanessa realized her twin was dressed in Vanessa’s clothing. She was wearing her hair like Vanessa did. Her jewelry, her shoes—it was all Vanessa’s. It really was like looking in a mirror because Vanity had done everything she could to make it look like it was Vanessa holding that knife.

“How tragic that Vanessa sliced the throat of her own little pet project,” Vanity simpered. “She knew exactly how to bug out the animatronics and shut off the cameras—but she wasn’t careful enough. It’ll only take a few ‘candid’ pictures to convince everyone.”

Freddy’s jaw creaked ominously, clenched in an effort to remain silent and not make the situation worse.

“No,” Vanessa whispered. “No, no, there’s—we can, we can talk to Uncle Tristen. We’ll ask him—”

“It’s not enough to just be the heir,” Vanity said. “I want to watch you lose everything.”

Reeling and terrified and disbelieving, Vanessa shook her head. How had she not known the true depths of resentment her twin had for her?

“Any last words, brat?” Vanity asked, jostling Gregory roughly.

“Vanessa really gives you tunnel vision, huh?” he mused.

“Wha—”

Vanity was understandably cut off when the full weight of Moon dropped from the ceiling and crashed into her. It happened so quickly that she was probably knocked out before she even realized what was happening, completely eliminating the chance of her using the knife. Gregory had tilted sideways with pretty perfect timing, ending up on the floor but otherwise seemingly unharmed.

Cackling as he raised up into a crouch over Vanity, Moon rasped, “Nighty night.”

It was all over in less than ten seconds, but it took longer for reality to catch up to Vanessa’s panic-numbed mind. She halfway collapsed right there on the floor, her knees weak with relief. She wasn’t too embarrassed by her reaction, since Freddy’s head literally sparked before he careened unsteadily forward.

“You have excellent timing,” he said to Moon, his voice only shorting out a little.

“Yeah, like, the best,” concussed Gregory agreed. “Thanks for the save. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining you up there or not.”

Moon helped him stand, and Freddy immediately took over, searching for injuries.

Trying not to choke on relief, Vanessa said, “Freddy—and you too, Moon, depending on how long you were lurking—please, please tell me you have footage of her admitting her plan like that.”

“I am saving it for the third time to a backup server as we speak, Vanessa,” Freddy said, examining Gregory’s head with a critical eye.

Gregory caught her looking and sent her a thumbs up. She gave him a thumbs down, making him laugh..

“I heard enough,” Moon said. His gravely voice usually freaked Vanessa out a little, but as of sixty seconds ago, he was her favorite animatronic. “I will send along the footage and,” he snickered, “the damage report.” He nudged Vanity with his slippered foot.

“Get concussed, creep,” Gregory said, flipping off Vanity’s unconscious body.

Vanessa choked out some hysterical laughter, and she figured he deserved that one. She shakily got to her feet and made her way over to the others. Gregory didn’t even fake groan when she hugged him tightly.

“Get concussed,” she agreed. “And the upcoming sequel: get arrested.”

#fnaf fic #fnaf security breach #star's stories #life and times of star

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nelyoslegalteam · 1 year

Text

Assigning Each Son Of Feanor A Grand Relic From The Adventure Zone: Balance Because There’s Seven Of Each Of Them And Also I Do Not Want To Be In This Work Meeting Right Now

Maedhros - The Bulwark Staff. The Relic of abjuration, the school of protection magic. Created out of pure, fierce determination to protect one’s family, the Bulwark Staff allows its wielder to cast powerful spells of shielding. Perfect for the consummate older brother whose entire thing is very much about holding the line (see: all of the emotions I have about Himring as a concept), and also the parallels between Maedhros and Lucretia are so much. They’re both such Bright Clear Line people, taking it all on themselves to see the mission out and stand in the way of the existential horror threatening everyone, and the worst things they do are driven by such a genuine desire to do what they feel they must for the people they care about the most. (For those familiar with both, does it surprise anyone that I love Lucretia so much also?)

Maglor - The Temporal Chalice. The Relic of divination, allowing its wielder control over the flow of time, it sways and corrupts with a promise: You will have the power to undo your greatest mistake. Heavily associated with decisions and regrets, it would be quite wonderfully reflective of Maglor, whose awareness of how wrong his actions are, clear regret of them, and yet simultaneous inability not to continue down the path decided for him is what makes him most compelling.

Celegorm - The Gaia Sash. Okay this one is low-hanging fruit, but it fits so extremely well. The Relic of conjuration, the Gaia Sash gives one the ability to create, control, and communicate with nature. Celegorm deserves godlike plant-bending abilities. As a treat. Let him have this. I also definitely have feelings about Merle being this wonderfully irreverent cleric, specially chosen by the God Of Nature across every universe, and Celegorm’s whole deal as a chosen/paladin of Orome.

Caranthir - The Phoenix Fire Gauntlet. Powers-wise, the Relic of evocation is the most straightforward of the seven, and I feel like that fits Caranthir very well. Lup is associated with fire on a literal level, yes, but also because she’s warm, she’s the connection point for the whole group, and I can see this on Caranthir too, being the one to befriend the dwarves and the humans and to establish this empire of connections everywhere, and Lup’s bright, fierce protective rage is such a good interpretive filter for Caranthir’s fiery temper. Also, the imagery of the Gauntlet burning everything around it down into a perfect circle of black glass just fucks severely on him.

Curufin - The Oculus. Curufin needs to be associated with the Relic whose ability involves summoning illusions so powerful that its wielder can make them reality, because he is a smith and a creator and this aspect is very fitting for him. Curufin also needs to be associated with the Relic of illusion for thematic being a pale imitation of Feanor reasons. Curufin also needs to be associated with Davenport, the character who loses his entire sense of self with the mission because his entire sense of self IS the mission, even if these things happen in extremely different ways.

Amrod - The Animus Bell. The Relic of necromancy, capable of tearing a soul from its body. Thematically perfect and wonderfully dark for the character called the Fated, and as I am a crispy Amrod truther at heart, the associations with violent, abrupt, unfair, being quite literally torn away by death, are in fact very necessary.

Amras - The Philosopher’s Stone. The Relic of transmutation, capable of turning anything into anything else. It’s nothing if not a metaphor for the way that Taako masks, tries to mold himself in wherever will fit him while remaining deeply convinced of the extremity of his isolation, having lost his twin and having become lesser for it. I am a crispy Amrod truther, and extremely obsessed with Amras also as a character who feels like half a person after losing his twin, and transmutation is so wonderfully reflective of the undefined nature of his place in the narrative.

#literally nobody cares about this except for me but this is going on tumblr dot hyperfixation anyway #this may have started because i was explaining the plot of taz balance to anna and got an 'oh! so the relics are like the silmarils!' and #that's. THAT'S NOT WRONG.#pspsps come listen to the adventure zone it's VERY good #the adventure zone #taz balance #silm #nelyo originals #the work meeting was over teams btw it's fine #OH ADDITION FROM SEVEAL HOURS LATER #I GAVE CURIFIN DAVENPORT’S RELIC #DAVENPORT IS AN ARTIFICER WITH TEXT-EXPLICIT ASSOCIATIONS WITH DEADLY SIN^TM WRATH #YEAH ALRIGHT I DID A GOOD JOB WITHOUT THINKING ABOUT IT THERE. EXTREMELY CURUFIN HE IS.

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augment-techs · 2 months

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For the sending lyrics and you’ll make a fake wip summary;

If I could only get back to yesterday,

Today would be a perfect day

If I could only get back to yesterday,

Oh, the different things I'd do and say

I'd be so good to you

If I had a second chance

Yes, I would (Yes, I would)

Yes, I would

Drakkon and Eugene

Title: all that has been, all that will be (has no meaning anymore) Rating: T Warnings: Attempted Infanticide, Violence. Relationships: World of the Coinless Eugene Skullovitch/World of the Coinless Adam Park; World of the Coinless Eugene Skullovitch ^ Lord Drakkon | Tommy Oliver; World of the Coinless Kimberly Hart/World of the Coinless Farkas Bulkmeir; Coinless Trini/Scorpina; Coinless Zack Taylor/Coinless Jason Scott; Ninjor & Dulcea. Characters: Coinless Eugene Skullovitch; Coinless Adam Park; Lord Drakkon | Tommy Oliver; Prime Tommy Oliver; Prime Billy Cranston; The Blue Emissary; The Omega Rangers; Ninjor; Dulcea; The Green Dragon; The Orange Power Coin; The White Tiger. Additional Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Found Family; Families of Choice; Aftermath of Violence; Unresolved Grief; PTSD; Literal Infantilization; Planet Hopping; Good Parent Eugene Skullovitch; Good Parent Adam Park; Eugene Skullovitch is Not Having a Good Time; Redeemed Lord Drakkon; Verbal Abuse; Past/Implied Child Abuse; Hijinks. Summary:

The Emissaries realized their mistake, just before Kiya had slaughtered Blue and set forth the Orange Empyreal on the Prime universe. Drakkon deserved a punishment for all his misdeeds, but perpetual solitary confinement wasn't the way to do it. They could shift the balance of Power throughout the cosmos if the Grid deems it necessary, why not shift other things? So it went like this: The Red Emissary removed the toxic will of the Green Dragon from Drakkon, the Yellow Emissary removed his memories, and the Blue Emissary removed everything that made him a threat by turning back the clock and arranging a meeting with the World of the Coinless; an infant Tommy Oliver in hand, naked and confused and not quite a week old. They gathered the surviving Rangers--including the ones Zordon made a grave error in excluding--in the throne room and set the child on a table with the proclamation that it was them that would decide on what constituted justice. When they vanished, leaving the child behind, there was the mounting horror that came with it; showcasing that there was little left of what one would call mercy, with suggestions such as doing as mankind did centuries ago in leaving the infant in a vase out in the elements, or sending it away to the courts of the united planetary systems that also wanted a crack at Drakkon. Or simply setting the newborn on its stomach to let it stop breathing.

The real horror came from only Skull stepping forward when the child--he was an infant, like so many that he'd pulled out of the rubble and spirited to the others in the Coinless--mewled pitifully with the chill of the air and the man wrapped him up in his sentry's cape. (Skull was always meant to be a parent. And Orange is always benevolent in its choices. Even in enraged and in want of vengeance.)

(Just for fun; a little theoretical excerpt below the cut)

He was thirty-eight, worn down to a thread, and feeling a little disgusted and fed up with just about everyone. Why bother defending choices that were going to be torn to shreds because nobody was willing to look beyond their own feelings of revenge and the unfairness of it all? Why bother looking for help even in the face of a bestfriend that had been so far away for two decades? (It probably wouldn't have hurt as much if he was as heartless and disgusting as everyone seemed to think he was. There was something akin to despairing familiarity in that.) Continuing his tramp along train tracks that had not been used since before The Final Battle, the long stretch of them familiar even after years, Skull tried to ignore how heavy the bag he'd brought along was, how his eyes were starting to become sore from the receding sun--as well as his trying not to embarrass himself with tears--and made sure his grip along wrap sling he'd had to fashion out of curtains was secure. Taking his eyes off of the horizon and tracks, just for a moment, Skull looked down again at the little bundle that had caused such a hubbub and breaking of any sort of civility. The barest traces of brown hair soft to the touch, skin much darker than it had been over the last few years, tiny little hands curling into Skull's shirt as the little hazel eyes twitch under petal soft lids in sleep. Tommy Oliver, reduced to a foundling that couldn't have been more than a week old; not even five pounds and completely helpless at at the mercy of every other being on the planet. For some reason the unfairness that everyone else seemed to feel didn't come to Skull. Not even the feeling of being cheated. He wouldn't pretend he understood it. Like he wouldn't pretend he couldn't hear the slightest steps of someone that had been trailing behind him for a good hours. "You really shouldn't be following me, Adam. What would Rocky and Aisha say?" He turned gently, not swaying and careful not to suggest vertigo in his own exhaustion, and looked over to the trees along the tracks that came part and parcel with the wilderness taking back the earth far faster than anyone would have guessed so long ago. It took a moment, not even three seconds, but exactly where his eyes were trained, grey and piercing as any wild animal, the tree branches in full green parted, the tall grass parting against knees as Adam Park loped out of his carefully hidden place and tried very hard not to look...embarrassed? ...And also like he wasn't obviously carrying a much bigger pack along his shoulders that was at least twice the size of the one his former captain carried.

#boom! comics power rangers #World of the Coinless #ask fill #prompt fill #Coinless Eugene Skullovitch #Coinless Adam Park #Lord Drakkon | Tommy Oliver #mighty morphin power rangers

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 11 months

Text

Meet Lana In Arcane!

Not my art but just my faceclaim!

Lana enjoys helping the kids of the Firelights, entertaining them and being a practical babysitter of the Firelight hideout.

Lana enjoys hoverboard rides, messing with Ekko, scaring Ekko, having her hair done, getting tattoos, and teaching the kids of the hideout!

Lana is stubborn, but emotional when needed to be. Lana painted the firelight mural, with help from others, but she needed to do it to not forget why they fight.

Lana hides her feelings well, but always hoped Jinx, or Powder, would someday come back to her, no matter how many fights they had on bridges or blimps, or how many letters she laid written, untouched and unsent in her drawer.

Lana was raised by Vander, a sneaky kid who was as quiet as a mouse, almost a ghost, knowing everything about everyone, sometimes visiting a brothel or two just for the fun of it, a popular woman there, wanting to feel something now later than ever than the longing for someone she couldn't have.

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

Height: 6'5

Skills: Tattooing, sharp shooting, annoying Ekko, building gadgets and making smoke bombs, and being as quiet as a ghost.

Age: 13-19 years old

S/o: Jinx

Backstory Extended:

Lana was orphaned by her parents, Piltover citizens, who took advantage of the bridge war, abandoning her on the bridge to die.

But Lana survived, she endured, and had clung onto a man named Vander who held two smaller girls on his arms, named Violet and Powder, who would soon become her closest friends.

Lana was taken down into the Undercity, raised up in the Last Drop, closer to Powders age as Violet took the smaller girl under her wing, who couldn't be smaller for long, getting taller and taller as she got older.

Soon enough, they expanded. The Undercity needed a man to run things, and Vander was dubbed the Hound of the Underground.

Soon they found two smaller kids, a boy named Mylo, a lock pick who’s parents were killed in a collapse in the mines, and a boy named Claggor, who had a nick for goggles, who was found stuck in the gutters all night until Lana pulled him out and took him to the Last Drop, where he stayed much longer.

The small makeshift family endured, making friends with the shopkeeper Benzo’s boy, named Ekko, who became Lana and Powder's best friend.

They lasted for years, Lana was a growing brainiac, who had a thirst for fights and was skilled in sneaking around.

As light as a mouse, quiet when she needed to be, unoticable by many, just because she could be, despite her height.

Lana hung around Powder, both having small child-like crushes on one another, never admitting it, much less to Ekkos teasing.

Perfect life, no?

Their lives were torn apart by a heist up above in the city of Piltover, broken into a apartment Topside and an explosion, triggered by stones Powder found.

This triggered them being hunted, chased out their own hiding place and being hidden away before they couldn't.

Vander was taken, Benzo was killed, all by a man named Silco.

Lana was there the night of the explosion, knocked out as she tried protecting Powder with her body, waking up with a killer head ache to Ekko crying over her.

It didn't take long for Lana to see Vanders body, Vi missing, and the absence of Mylo and Claggor made it clear, the bloody goggles and lockpick on the ground sealing the ordeal.

That night, a piece of Lana died, but she took it and became stronger, sticking with Ekko, they survived in the slums off scraps, not long after, they found a Vasataya man, a little older than them, the three made a trio, soon expanding into Revolutionary group of kids, teens, adults and elderly alike into what was now known as the Firelights.

With Lana and Ekko leading the pack, they strived to take down Silco.

But not long before, a familiar head of long, blue hair Lana spent hours braiding in another life, seemed to bring her back to square one.

Lana tried, begged, but was dragged away from Powder, who claimed she was Jinx.

Lana tried again and again, knocked away before she stopped trying.

She understood. Powder was dead, her memory burned away in the fires of the night that killed them all, and Jinx was the ashes.

Lana spent her days now fighting Jinx, only to meet her past back up again at the abandoned harbor.

Lana fought Silco and Jinx alike, trying to keep her own lingering childhood feelings at bay, as did Jinx, on the battlefields.

Lana still loved her, but couldn't have her.

But it all changed once again when another pile of ashes popped back up, Vi. Back in the Undercity. Alive. But with an Enforcer.

Even more shocking, Mylo and Claggor trailed behind, Mylo missing an arm while Claggor an eye, but alive as can be.

Lana, as light and sneaking as a ghost, followed them around on her hoverboard, face adorned with a mask, before they finally swooped in when Jinx, Vi, Mylo and Claggor met up once more, unknown to her, looking for Lana also.

Wasn't the best move on their part, as it triggered a fight on the bridge, a tea party act.

But one good thing came out of it.

Lana, face to face with Jinx, or Powder, once more.

And as she tried, she convinced her to come back, to be with her and to be with everyone, happy, now that Silco was dead.

As reluctant as could be, but Lana had never lied to her before…

Why would she now as she took her hand to another life?

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apollyonsdarksecrets · 1 year

Text

Just a Flicker

Eddie Munson

Summery: Your world is turned upside down in the span of 8 miserable days, but maybe there’s a flicker of hope in it all.

Warning/AN. My account is 18+ so No Minors. Season Four Spoilers. Character death, Eddie’s Death, crying, depressed reader. My husband told me I could write a hell of a sad story and I listened… I broke my own heart. You are warned.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

There is something to be said about faith, about destiny, about good things coming to those who wait…

You are beginning to think it’s all bullshit.

It’s been days, days of waiting and watching, screaming and crying, and feeling a pain you never thought you would in your life time.

What did you do? What did you say? Was it some kind of Karma come to haunt you for whatever was left of your life?

It had started eight days before the earthquake, sitting on your bed, dressed to the 9’s in the new outfit you worked so hard to get the money for. Staring out your window as the time ticked away on the analog clock by your dresser.

Tick Tok

Minutes of him being late turned into an hour… then another… until it was 12 in the morning. The make up you so painstakingly swiped on your face was now ruined by trails of salty tears, staining your pillow and comforter as you sobbed yourself to sleep.

You had called his place to no avail, even a few of his friends, asking if they’d seen him. The ones that did answer said they’d seen him leave school with a cheerleader in his van.

You thought it could never get any worse than that.

But when the next morning rolled around and your house was shaken alive by the pounding of police fists at your door, you knew you’d been wrong.

Chrissy Cunningham was found dead in Eddie Munson’s trailer.

And Eddie Munson was missing.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The days that had followed were filled with emotions you didn’t think at this age you’d have to experience. Your Eddie, the boy who loved you like no other was being hunted as a murdered.

The words haunt you in your sleep, and in your waking hours, the people you interacted with in those long days reminded you of it as if your world wasn’t being torn down, one agonizing wall by another.

“He never was a good boy.”

“I knew something was wrong with him.”

“He works for the devil, I have seen it myself.”

The small town ostracized you, knowing you were his girlfriend. The harassment came two days later.

“Where is he?”

“I know you’ve seen him.”

“What involvement did you have with this?”

And all the while, as you drowned in the unforgiving tide of hate and judgment, you kept your head above the water enough to tell anyone who would listen that this wasn’t your Eddie.

Your Eddie is a sweet man.

Your Eddie could never hurt a single soul.

Your Eddie is innocent. There has to be an explanation.

But none would never come.

The earthquake started right in downtown, the ground splitting and yawning wide. Buildings collapsed, fires broke out, a heavy smoke unlike anyone had seen before filled and choked the air.

Your family were some of the lucky ones, your house being on the outskirts of town so you were able to get to the emergency shelter at Hawkins High and wait out the worst of it.

Time seemed to stop, everyone watching the little tv in horror as the earth swallowed most of Hawkins along with any hope you had of finding Eddie.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

April 1st comes and goes. The morbid joke that everything is just a big gag floats around the shelter as you collect some clothes from a small table. Your head is heavy, eyes stinging from crying so much, and your stomach stays in a tangle of knots you don’t think will ever come undone.

As you reach for a pile of sweatshirts a large hand stops you, blinking you look up to see a familiar face, even if it had been two years.

“Hey.”

Steve “The King” Harrington is standing before you, looking much less king and more so commoner. He is smiling, sadly, but still smiling at you.

“Hi.” Your voice is gone, a raspy whisper is all that’s left. Steve takes his hand back, letting you grab the sweater, adding it to your wadded up sweatpants.

“I… I’m glad you’re safe.”

You nod curtly in reply, eyes downcast and traveling over the table of items. Clothes the people of Hawkins have donated to help those that have lost their houses.

“Listen… I… I need to talk to you.” Glancing back up you watch Steve’s adams apple bob as he swallows, looking distressed as he looks around the room and back at you.

“I’m not really in the mood for a-.”

“No, no. It’s really important. Can you come with me?”

You glance over at your family, occupied with talking to the family next to them, and nod your head. “Okay.”

Steve leads you into the hall, then to a dark room, where he flips the switch and closes the door after you enter. You feel as though you’re floating on your feet, not really in your body as you lean into a rickety desk, staring at the floor.

“So what’s so important?” Hallow, void of emotions as you pick at the sweater you set beside you. It’s ugly, pale pink with bright yellow flowers. Someone’s Christmas gift they probably didn’t like.

“I needed to tell you… I don’t know how I ju-“

“Spit it out Harrington.” You snap, frustrated and tired, your head pounding worse than ever as you glare up at the stunned boy. His face is bruised and there’s a purple ring around his neck, fleetingly you wonder what had happened.

Instead of speaking Steve turns around and grabs a bag by the door, rummaging through it, and pulling out a denim vest. Your heart skips a beat, the content in your stomach rising quickly into your throat as you stare at the mud crusted article of clothing.

“Where did you…” You reach for it, Steve handing it to you with a solemn look. Tears sting your eyes as you unfold it, the large Dio patch on the back coming into view.

“I think you should know he saved me, and my friends.”

Your eyes snap to his, but Steve’s are trained on the vest. You clench it tight, knuckles going white as you open your mouth to say something, anything, but you don’t know where to start.

“When the earthquake hit, me, the hellfire kids, and my friends, ran into him right before it all happened, at skull rock, he told us about why he was running, how Chrissy had been killed and he knew the town would blame him… I know he didn’t kill Chrissy. I wish I could tell everyone that, make them believe me. He was just scared. He ran.” Steve is rambling, beginning to pace back and forth as his hands push through his hair.

“Where… where is Eddie now?” You mumble, watching Steve’s face, panic sinking into your bones, sticking to you and making your body stiff.

“He’s not-.”

“WHERE IS MY EDDIE?” You can’t control the scream, body shaking so harshly the pins on the vest rattle. “Tell me where Eddie is, Steve. You tell me where he is.”

Steve’s eyes are misty, nostrils flailing as he tries to hold in his own tears. “I’m so sorry.”

The three words squeeze your heart until it bursts, face crumpling as you fall to the floor. Body wracking sobs take over as you burry your face into Eddie’s vest.

Steve is beside you, pulling you into his chest and you cry more tears than you thought you had. He’s whispering how sorry he is, how he wishes there was something he could of done, and that Eddie was a good man.

“Eddie… I just want Eddie.” Your panting between sobs, your heart hammering like a fist into your ribs, bruising the bone and leaving a permanent ache as a reminder of that sweet, goofy boy you will never see again. “Please bring back my Eddie.”

“He’s a hero… he saved us. You have to remember that.” Steve mumbles into your hair, rocking you slightly. To comfort you or himself you aren’t sure but you cling to him nonetheless. “He talked about how much he missed his girl, how he missed your big date and he wanted to make it up to you… he tried so hard.”

Your shaking your head, you don’t want to hear anymore, not now, maybe later but certainly not now. So Steve just sits on the cold tile floor, brushing his hand up and down your back as you sob.

The hole in your chest swallowing you alive just like the earth swallowed your Eddie.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Two weeks later and residents are allowed to return to their homes, and the ones who can’t are being placed in government housing in the next town over.

It’s five in the morning when you’re shaken awake, a rough hand on your upper arm startling you. Even in your drowsy state you can make out the tired looking face of Wayne Munson as he leans over you.

“M-Mr Munson?”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t want to scare you. But I have a favor to ask of you.”

Wayne Munson asking a favor of anyone was a big deal, you’d come to learn that after dating Eddie for two years and being around the older man so often.

“O-of course…” You shakily sit up, body not ready quite yet. Wayne sits on your cot where your legs had vacated as you swing them over the side, planting your feet on the stable ground.

“I… I can’t go back to the trailer, but I need to get my stuff… I’d like your help, if you think you can, packing up Eddie’s things.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Of course you had agreed, you may have lost your boyfriend but Wayne had lost his nephew, though son was a more fitting word.

The drive over was quiet, not even the radio playing and the world looked eerie, smoke from fires that still could not be extinguish making the everything foggy.

The ride was over to soon.

Now you stand at Eddie’s door, a door that was hardly ever closed now shut in your face. Wayne stands beside you, the both of you staring at the thin wood, seemingly willing Eddie to be on the other side.

“I’ll get everything in the kitchen… just… take your time.” Wayne brushes a hand up your back, before turning and walking down the short hall and around the corner. Maybe this was more for you than for him.

You lick your dry lips, hand resting on the brass nob as you take a breath, count to three and twist.

Eddie’s room is just like the last time you saw it. Heaps of clothing lay at the entrance to his closet, cassette tapes are scattered about his bed as if he’d been looking for something specific, his desk is covered in D&D trinkets and papers for campaigns he would never see finished.

It hits you so heavily that the world doesn’t know Eddie is gone. His things, this room, this trailer. None of it knows Eddie is gone and will never return.

You rub your fist against your chest, fingers tingling as you step further into the room, the carpet softening the impact of your feet. Eddie’s mattress is askew, sheets gone, making your eyebrows come together. Eddie? Washing sheets?

You almost want to laugh at the thought. Almost.

Spinning in a circle you eye the posters, the glass cups and plates thrown about without care. A t-shirt lays over Eddie’s record player and you pluck it up, careful of the needle arm, and turn it over in your hands.

Metallica, his favorite.

Bringing the cotton to your nose you sniff, the smell of old spice and a musk that you love so much that is particularly his, pelts you and your chest tightens. Balling the shirt up you cover your face, shoulders shaking with the strain of not crying, you’ve cried so much, how can there still be more?

How can this pain ever go away?

How is this fair?

Why Eddie?

Why you?

You tilt your head back, trying to blink away the tears, and sink back onto the mattress.

“Eddie…” Your throat constricts, choking you but you force the words to spill past your trembling lips. “Eddie…. If you… Can hear me, I just want you to know I miss you so much, Steve Harrington told me you saved him and our friends.” You clutch the shirt close to your chest, feeling like it will hold your breaking heart together. “He told me to remember you’re a hero, you didn’t run away… You were never a coward baby… I wish I knew what happened that night…. I’d been so mad about our date but now it all feels so silly.”

Wiping your cheeks you stare at the floor, eyes bouncing from one item to the next. “Besides, how can I stay mad at you? I never could… Even now, even though you’ve left me… left me and your uncle but… We… We know you are a good man Eddie. Don’t need Harrington to tell me that, you were always my hero. I wish you would of come to me, I would of helped Eddie. Maybe none of this would of happened had you come to me…”

A soft sob stops you, eyes closing briefly before opening again. Determination sets your jaw, you roll your shoulders back and look to the ceiling, past the white bulb humming on the fan, like you could see Eddie above you, watching you.

You knew he wouldn’t like seeing his girl so upset.

“I’ll make this right Eddie, I love you, I believe you, and I will make this right. You are my everything Eddie Munson, and I will make this right for you.”

The light above you suddenly begins flickering, shinning brighter before dimming and starting again, and again, and again.

You stare, confused before a soft, faint voice floats to your ears. It sounds like it’s from another world… but that voice…

You know that voice.

#eddie munson st4 #eddie x you #eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #sad #character death #eddie munson deserves the world #eddie munson death #relationship #crying #stranger things 4

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closingwaters · 10 months

Text

TIMING: Current

SUMMARY: Teagan finally comes around to talk to Aeron about why he's paying a visit.

WARNINGS: Mentions of Parental Death and Sibling Death

It couldn’t be avoided for very long, could it? It was her own house and Teagan had burst into a sprint, as if she was the intruder. Maybe she was. She played the role of a sister, of a daughter, of a friend, but was she actually any of those things? In the way it mattered?

The nymph sighed, worrying her hands together and wiping the clamminess on the shirt she’d snagged from Arden’s closet. It was a comfort to have her scent surrounding her, bringing her a sense of peace. If only for a moment.

“I’m ready to talk.” Teagan walked to the edge of the lake, seeing a bobbing figure in the distance. Aeron was always rather good at camouflaging himself in the water, but Teagan always managed to find where he was. He had a way of moving that was all his own, and she saw right through it all. It was surreal to see him swimming in the lake she protected, and for a brief second, there was a semblance of relief.

After fifteen years, Teagan had the opportunity to watch her brother swim, feel the way her skin became abuzz with familiarity and warmth. She closed her eyes and smiled wanly, the expression fading when Aeron surfaced. Teagan had always revered his true form, the way his body resembled the very frogs they used to catch and release as children. Those were simpler days.

“Aye? You ain’t gonny attack me?” Aeron huffed, keeping himself at what he considered a safe distance.

“I’m…duw duw. You just—okay. No. I’m not gonny attack you, Aeron. I already explained why—just forget it. I’m much too bard over this. You said you wannae talk, so let’s talk.” Teagan rubbed her eyes, letting her true form rush over her body.

Aeron took in his little sister’s visage, both happy and torn to see it. Her skin was marred from years in a war that she began. At least she is alive, he thought. But how far gone was she? Maybe it was daft of him to believe she could’ve let go and become a version of the person she was before. Not the same, obviously, but just a hint.

Sadly though, to Aeron, there was no chance of that. She was alive, but was she really? He went looking for her, against all odds, hoping that she had somehow survived on her own. The rest of the family had accepted a conclusion without evidence, believing Teagan had died in her pursuit, but not Aeron. So when he did his monthly internet search for his sister’s name, he was happy to discover she was not too far from the Aos Sí. One cryptic call and he was off to reunite with his baby sister.

He almost wished he hadn’t. His baby sister was dead, and if he were to overlook anything, it could prove detrimental to the family, to the whole community. And that time, they might not be able to snuff out the fire before it burned everything in its wake. It would pour salt in the wound, but ties needed to be severed. Teagan was just too far gone.

“You haven’t changed. I thought you would have, you know? That you needed time. I didn’t want to give you that ultimatum, but the Aos Sí was in danger. You lashed out on everyone and almost gave our location away. And now this?” Aeron choked back a sob, gesturing to his remaining wounds with a glimmer of tears in his eyes. “Fifteen years and you’re still holding onto that darkness.” He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly until he managed to speak again, his voice laden with sorrow. “Is that all you have? Did you really let go of the good we had?” After all that time, after being given a choice, Teagan had chosen her path of hatred. As much as it pained him to believe it, Aeron wasn’t sure if Teagan would ever be capable of love.

That, in itself, was a heartbreaking horror.

Teagan stammered, squeezing her eyes shut, “N-no. You’re wrong. It’s not—”

Aeron interrupted, “Look what you did to me!” He breathed harshly. “Ever since what happened to mam and our siblings, I just watched this darkness grow inside you. It consumed all the good.” Aeron harshly waved toward Teagan, his expression full of grief. “All of it.” He croaked, “I thought there’d be some left or that it came back, but no. You’re just—”

That time, Teagan interrupted, voice cracking against the jagged rock in her throat. “I’m a bad person who’s trying to be good, Aeron. I was scared. I have things to lose now.” She stressed a hand through her hair, “You think I got a darkness? I know I do. I know.” Her lips were trembling, the truth spilling out before her hesitance had a chance to barge in. “I’ve let a light in,” Teagan placed a hand at her chest, swallowing. “And her name is Arden. It doesn’t fix everything, and I’ve gotta do the work, but I am trying—and-and I-I got scared. Was attacked by a warden not long ago and almost died. And you know what?” She swallowed, hands curling into tight fists. “A hunter came begging for me to spare that hunter—his brother. Practically promised he’d-he’d protect me. Can you believe that? A hunter. And you know what?”

Aeron scoffed, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. He wanted to answer, guessing the hunter was now at the bottom of the lake, but he kept his mouth shut. Even if his baby sister had the strength to fight her darkness for a moment, who knew when how long it would last? She’d already made it evident that it could return in an instant, Aeron’s skin was evidence of that. No one was safe. Not him, not Teagan, and most certainly not the rest of their family. Still, he listened.

“I wanted to kill him, want-wanted to make him pay. But she…she helped me let go. Made the darkness fade just long enough for light to be shed on everything.” Teagan paused, blinking as she stared into the void. Finally, she looked back to Aeron, imploring him to hear her. “There was light and I made the right choice.” Her voice grew soft and hopeful, trembling reverie stuck to her lips. “I despised humans. You know this. And she…” Teagan’s shoulders raised with tension to her ears, releasing when she found her voice again. “She’s human, and wonderful, and sees past this monster I am.”

“She can afford to see past it, Teagan. She’s human. She doesn’t have hunters after her, or a community of fae to protect. But us? Your family? We can’t.” Aeron shook his head vehemently, waving Teagan away as he paced. “She will never understand and she will never know the fear we have. That is why we keep to ourselves and don’t go out looking for trouble.”

Teagan’s cheeks burned and she hiccuped from the way she tried to hold back the sobs. It was happening all over again. Only this time, Aeron had a grieving anger that wasn’t there before. As if he was blaming Teagan for the sentence he was bestowing onto her. “Please.” Teagan gasped out, hugging herself tightly. She wanted her family back. She was tired of the loneliness from the void in place of where her family should be. Why was she being punished for protecting her lake and herself? Change was happening. It was. It just couldn’t be instant.

“I’m trying, Aeron. I am. I am!” She took a step forward, and out of fear, Aeron took a step back. Teagan fell to the ground then, her knees hitting the wet earth and her hands squeezing the silt between her fingers. It grounded Teagan enough to look back up at Aeron, eyes of recycle bin blue and chocolate brown struggling to see through the blur of tears.

“Everything I’m doing is different, Aeron. I-I-I let her in. I-I am letting her show her heart and I’m showing her m-mine. She is becoming my heart. Do you understand?” Teagan’d scar her arms further, sell her own blood if that’s what it took to pay down the debt she sank into. Arden would do the same, and despite not understanding why, the nymph settled in and tried that much harder. She didn’t mind the pain so long as it meant that she could vindicate herself enough to be part of her family again. She’d do her best impression of forgiveness, become a sister and daughter again in the midst of the chaos, and commit until the effort had borne fruit. She would not quit, not sit, and pin a paper heart to her chest so she could make a target that her family’s love could land upon.

But there would be no fruit.

“You’re too much of a danger, chwaer.”

The words shot down a weight onto Teagan’s chest and she buried her face in her arms as bowed on the ground.

“Maybe in a few years, we can try again, but we just can’t risk it right now. Not to mention that human? You may think she’s a light, but you’ll…” Aeron believed even if this Arden human were of the decent sorts, his sister may be too far gone into her void. That she’d consume whatever light the human had. He thought better than to say that aloud. “You’re a beautiful monster, Teagan.”

“Monster?” Teagan replied, looking up again with her red-brimmed eyes.

“Aye. We all are. You just so happen to be the kind we fear, and we can’t be scared of our own family, can we?” Aeron blinked away his tears, a thundering storm raging inside. He’d wait until he was far enough away for his release. He was hurting his sister enough.

Aeron was right. It pained Teagan to accept, but he was. Existing in fear around your own family was no way to exist, and she wouldn’t put her family through that. Not again. There was still a chance. Aeron had said as much. She just needed to get better.

“Okay.” She said, defeatedly.

“Okay.” He replied, disheartened.

“You have my number now. Call sometime. If what you say is true, then at least we have that line now to check in, eh?” Aeron began to back away, healed from his wounds but somehow feeling worse than he did before. “I love you, chwaer. Always will.”

“I love you, too, tadpole.” It came out hollow and weak, a reflection of what she was in that moment. Rolling to a sitting position, Teagan looked up with half-lidded eyes, too heavy with misery to fully open. She watched and sobbed as Aeron departed, the parallels on the exit not lost on her.

She’d sit there for a while. Maybe until the next day.

#wickedswriting #waving words #solo #teagan and aeron #c: aeron #beautiful monster #parental death tw #sibling death tw

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shabbyshoebox · 2 years

Text

Ever Prepared [Ectober 2022]

Summary: Lancer was qualified to teach. Not to protect students from the supernatural. Rating: PG, Teen+ Content Warning: Passing mentions of death in a school environment, anxiety attack. Characters: Mr. Lancer Genre: Angst Word Count: 562

Everything in order, everything in its place.

Mr. Lancer had prepared for his homeroom class. His students’ papers were all graded, in neat piles, in alphabetical order. The grades have been uploaded online with a backup record in his physical grade book. His copies for the full week were made, stapled, and organized by bell. He had even written the next two full week’s homework assignments in the corner of the blackboard.

He checked, double-checked, triple-checked his lists. He wanted to be missing something. Anything.

No. He never did.

Lancer sat down at his desk. He pulled out his copy of Paradise Lost, opening up to the chapter that was due today. He read it five times yesterday.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Only five minutes until students were allowed to be in the building.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Lancer’s eyes skimmed over the familiar paragraphs. He realized halfway down the page that he hadn’t taken in a single word. He sighed and went back to the top of the page, this time using his finger to help keep his place

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

He snapped the book shut. He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I need to go on a walk,” he muttered.

He stood up from his chair, pushed his swivel chair back in where it should be, strode across the room, and unlocked the door. He used his foot to slide the doorstop in place so his students would be able to come in without him.

He looked back in the classroom one more time before walking away.

Everything in order.

Everything in its place.

A couple of years ago, Lancer would have never dared leave the door open. Principle Ishiyama would have torn him a new one for creating a security risk.

Locked doors didn’t protect them anymore. Not when those who wished harm could walk through walls.

All a lock did was slow down the escape route.

As he stepped away, he knew there was no telling if today would be another bad day. No one could predict when these attacks would occur, only that they only seemed to do so when school was in session.

Lancer didn’t know when he’d lose another colleague. Another student. He had to always mentally prepare to call someone’s family and tell them that they were killed.

He walked faster. He was too aware of his limbs as they were filled with shaky energy. The back of his neck grew hot.

He knew that ghost kid- Phantom- did the best he could. Lancer didn’t know what his story was, but thought he likely died near the school. Why else would he be haunting it so much? Why else would he be making sure no one else died?

Come on, Ronnie.

In.

Out.

Slow down.

In.

Out.

He never seemed to realize how fast his breathing became.

In.

Out.

He focused on the lines of the tiles on the floor. The sound his shoes made in the empty, industrial white hallway. The way his shirt felt on his skin.

In. Out. In. Out.

Anything but the pit of dread opening in his chest. Anything but the knowledge that he may have to evacuate the students to keep them from joining the dead.

Anything but the knowledge that everyone’s safety was out of his control.

#ectober 2022 #eh originals #knightmares #22 Order #ectoberhaunt22 #danny phantom #mr. lancer #day 3 #angst #content death mention #content anxiety attack #am i proud of this?#no #However Im actually participating in this for once and writing for the first time in forever so its a good thing #fanfic #I gave him a first name

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fridouw · 6 months

Text

Belladonna betrayed

Word count: 1363

It was a full moon that night. The stars twinkled in the sky, occasionally covered by some passing clouds. Every now and then the light from the moon would be temporarily dimmed, only to shortly after brighten up the dark fortress beneath it, one ray at a time.

Belladonna had successfully made her way in without alerting any guards. There had been more than she had anticipated, but it was still no match to her. A skilled assassin with a lifetime of stealth experience she easily snuck past them without making a sound. She was on the upper levels now, taking a breather in the cold night air while going over the plans in her head. Covered in the shadows she could see guards all around her, patrolling on the rooftops, watch towers and the outdoor square. She knew this was a high tier mission but she enjoyed the challenge. Maybe a little bit too much. She could see her target from up here, the daughter of one of probably the most influential and powerful families of dark elves in this region. The brief mission description had not mentioned why or who had ordered the kill, but sometimes that happened. Discretion was fairly common but it didn't matter anyway. Belladonna was just following her orders.

The young woman was sat in the square surrounded by guards, but there was no mistake. She was wearing the bright red cloak just as described. Belladonna observed her for some time, watching the movements of the guards and calculating her next best move. That's when she heard it -- a deep voice speaking behind her.

"Belladonna."

She turned around quickly, her short sword ready for an attack -- but she just as quickly lowered her weapon and sighed. A man had appeared out of the shadows on the empty balcony they were at, his familiar dark hood covering most of his face.

"Fade," she growled quietly. "What are you doing here?"

He took a few steps closer to her and she noticed his expression was hard, no trace of the cocky smile that was otherwise always present.

"You're being set up. You need to leave, now."

Belladonna stared at him. Despite their differences and poor relationship it had never affected their work. This didn't make any sense.

"What are you talking about?" she snapped.

"The League of the Withered has betrayed you -- this is a suicide mission, they intend for you to be caught and killed. The drow already know you're here and they are expecting your attack. Look around you, this place is never this heavily guarded and your target is right in the center of it, waiting. It's probably not even her, just bait."

Belladonna let his words sink in. As if on cue, a pair of guards patrolling the rooftops above them spoke loud enough for them to overhear.

"… and the south entrance is covered too, that should leave no exit for the assassin once she manages to get in. We have the whole area covered and all guards are on high alert." The other guard continued. "Good. But she is not to be underestimated. Everyone has been instructed not to eat or drink and we have antidotes prepared. The Withered told us everything we need to know, I expect we shall have her head by morning and the daughter can return safely." Their voices trailed off as they passed a corner and walked away, continuing their patrol.

Belladonna pushed herself up against a wall, realizing the reality of her situation. But Fade -- of all people, why had he come to warn her? How did he even know? Doubt set in and she glared at him.

"You. You did this," she said.

"No." He replied flatly. And somewhere within her she knew he was telling the truth. As much of an ass that he was, he wouldn't do this to her. Meadowseeker would never forgive him and they both knew they had the same soft spot for her. "Look at this," he said and handed her a torn piece of parchment. … e'll send Belladonna. They won't believe us otherwise. That should get them off our backs , we'll have them in our favor and the guild will be protected.

Belladonna could just about make out the sigil of a black, withered tulip. This was an official document.

"Where did you get this?" she demanded. A particularly dark set of clouds appeared in the sky, accompanied by a light breeze.

"I found it near the Withered offices, I expect this was a sudden change of plans and someone wasn't careful enough to conceal it. And no, I don't know who did this," he added just as Belladonna was about to ask. "But we should really leave now. I spotted another set of guards on my way here."

Belladonna felt something in her break apart. Betrayed. Her own guild… A life time of service and they sold her out just like that, to protect themselves. Putting together all the information provided by Fade and her own accounts of the night, it was true. A mission like this would have required a squad of assassins and a thorough plan, maybe even a briefing with the Withered leaders. But she had just been sent an envelope with vague descriptions and the location. For a mission like this that was not how the league would go about it.

"River," said Fade softly. Belladonna looked up, surprise on her face. She had never told him her name. "First of all, that's a silly name--"

"Better than Eles," she snapped back at him before she could help herself. The world around her seemed unreal. What was happening?

He ignored her. "Second of all, Meadowseeker would be here if she could. But she was sent on another mission so she asked me. As much as I'd love to stand here in the cold I'd really like to get back to head quarters. You should count yourself lucky. There is no resignation any of us could hand in and be on our way. You have a way out alive, but only if we leave now."

"I have nowhere to go," she said blankly, realizing it as the words left her lips.

"Look," said Fade with some discomfort, "there is a drow in a town a few miles east from here that owes me a favor. Her name is Zaravin. Find her and mention my name, she will help you and get you set up. You're a smart woman, you'll be alright." It seemed to take Fade some effort to say these words of encouragement, but he appeared genuine nonetheless. "Let's go, I know a way out. They won't spot us."

A few minutes later they were standing outside the east part of the fortress, not too far away from a tall forest that seemed to swallow up all the remaining moonlight from the sky. It was raining now. Belladonna knew she could sprint and disappear without anyone even knowing they were there. The only difference now was that she would never return to the League of the Withered, never laugh with her fellow assassins, never eat breakfast with Meadowseeker again and recount their latest missions. She could feel her eyes burning but refused to let any tears escape.

"Tell Meadowse-- Tell Ava that…" she began, struggling with her words.

"I will," said Fade. "Or you can tell her yourself, just be careful with how you message her. You should probably lay low for a while, a lot of dangerous people will be after you."

Belladonna nodded. "Well… I guess this is good bye." She hesitated, thinking that Fade would be the last person she'd like to be rescued by. "Don't think this makes me think any different of you," she said venomously.

Fade laughed, looking more like himself. "I wouldn't dream of it. You better be on your way. Tell Zaravin I haven't forgotten my promise." Just before leaving, Belladonna looked back and said with some restraint: "Look after Ava."

"I will."

And with a quick look to make sure it was safe, she sprinted into the woods, making her way east to a new life.

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

a lil something i wrote a couple years ago for Belladonna! i have so much backstory for her that i'd kinda forgotten about :'D this piece of writing is low-key giving "she released a breath she didn't know she was holding" but i don't care, i had fun writing it and i love my bella <3

in the assassin guild called 'league of the withered' they kidnap children and steal orphans to raise them as deadly assassins. the children are never given names and are only referred to later in life as the killing method they specialize in. some assassins who try to hang on to their humanity secretly choose their own names as young children.

#oc #oc writing #original fiction #dnd #dnd writing #belladonna #fade #meadowseeker

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softquietsteadylove · 1 year

Note

A little angst again, sorry. But it's a headcanon, I really think it happened in the film.

If you can remember the scene where Sersi told everyone that there is no Olympia, Kingo saying they're basically fancy robots, and Sprite saying that all this time Thena was remembering. And they had an argument if they should stop/delay the birth of the Celestial, if they should help the humanity. It's like headcanon to me where Thena suddenly stood during that argument saying that she and Gil already have a good life and then they started coming back again (the other Eternals) she's sort of stating that they're bothering their life and she's done and that she's sorry because she won't give a damn about it, then she walked out. Gil followed her and they also both started having an argument because Thena doesn't want them to be involved, she doesn't want to fight because she thinks she can't do it anymore, but Gil still wants to help them, the humanity, the mission. And Gil promising that everything will be okay, they'll be back home again together...

Sorry☹️☹️☹️

"All this time, Thena was remembering all the other planets we were sent to, and everyone dying during the emergence."

Thena was still quiet, barely having said a word since being pulled from her episode earlier in the day. Gilgamesh had excused that it wasn't uncommon for her to be untalkative. That was an understatement for their family present: Thena could go for days without talking after a bad one.

It had been so, so long since they had seen their family--sat down, had a meal with them. Even Ikaris had managed some warmth for them. But the warm welcome was no match for the sting of reality.

Thena knew it. As soon as she saw that Deviant on the horizon, she knew that the veneer of peace over their lives was going to be shattered. It was a feeling that came over her often. Only now, she was finding out that it was familiar for a reason.

"Sersi, we have no right to stop the birth of a Celestial."

Yes, it was called the birth of a Celestial. A deity of entire universes of galaxies at a time. A god borne of one measly planet's sacrifice. Even as part of that sacrifice, what they lost each time was mitigated by a cold, sterile reboot of who they were. Reduced to a question of numbers, the answer was clear.

"We're not going to let everyone on Earth die, right?!"

"No."

Heads turned as Thena stood, pushing herself back from the table and rising from her chair. They all looked at her to continue, but she held Gilgamesh's eyes.

"Right!" the human newcomer agreed. "We're not-"

"Our answer," Thena clarified with a frightening bite to it. The temperature in the arid desert home dropped several degrees. "Is no."

"Thena," Gilgamesh started, clearly knowing this was coming, and where it was headed.

"I'm with you, T," Kingo smiled, although his usual affability also failed to pierce through the hardened shell of the Warrior Eternal.

"No," she looked at her brother, and then at the rest of their family, "you're not. None of you are."

"Thena, please," Sersi pleaded, both the most gently and the most heartfelt of them.

Thena at least looked at her to voice her next denial. "Sersi, my life is here. Our life."

Gilgamesh also rose from his chair, seated at the opposite end from her to make room for their many guests. A handful of family turned strangers.

Thena met his eyes, the rest of them fading from her mind as her words finally surfaced. "We have done enough."

"Thena," he sighed, torn between the argument his family was making for human life and the other half of his life facing him a metre away.

"We have given up enough," she continued, palms pressing to the table. "Is that not why we are out here?--have been out here, for centuries?"

Sersi and Kingo met eyes for the briefest of seconds before looking down at the table again. That night left scars of different shapes on all of them, but inarguably the two to bear still-open wounds from it were the two standing.

"You're right," Gilgamesh nodded. He had never been one to argue for the sake of it, and the last person he would ever argue with under any circumstances was Thena. "But we're out here for another reason, aren't we?"

This time it was Thena whose eyes broke away--something the rest of the family had never witnessed from the Goddess of War herself.

"To protect humans." It was said with a faint smile--an attempt to draw the same from her. Gilgamesh was always good at that. "You made it all the way here on that promise alone."

It was true. She had endured Mahd Wy'ry, stormy seas and trembling in Gilgamesh's arms in the hulls of ships all the way to this godforsaken continent. Because she was unwilling to subject humanity to the destruction of which she was capable if left alone.

And Gilgamesh had never left her alone, in all their thousands of years together.

Gil pressed his palms to the table as well, mirroring his other half. "We have to help."

"No, we don't," Thena whispered, but it hit the air as if she were screaming and crying. Faces of shock and alarm rose and crumbled at the tears in her wide, green eyes. Even Ikaris pushed off the far wall at the development. But she shook her head ever so minutely. "Why this time? Why now?--again? Why is it always us?"

There was no flicker of white, or gold glowing under her skin. There was only Thena, asking why she was being denied her hard earned peace yet again.

Gilgamesh sighed, leaving his end of the table to reach the woman in tears. Were it not for those crowded around it, he would have simply tossed it out of his way to reach her. But he took the long way, unlocking her stiff posture and pulling her hand into his, winding their fingers together. "I know."

Thena held tight, shaking from head to toe. Every ounce of strength she had been given, and all it boiled down to was fragility. "You promised we had eternity."

"I did," he agreed, bringing her hand up to his lips. The family continued to stare, watching before them something that had unfolded thousands of years ago and yet was new to them.

Thena held his hand so tight that a mortal would break in her grip. She was built to fight--she was made to protect, but it only worked if she had the most to lose. "I can't."

"You can," he promised, as if it were just that simple. He still looked at her in a way Athens could never. "I'll be right there."

Thena's eyes moved definitively to his cuts and scrapes scars. He had been here this whole time, prey to a predator that she was just as vulnerable to, in a much crueller way.

He pressed his forehead to hers, "we have to help. You know we do."

Thena inhaled, breathing in the feeling of him in front of her. Her instincts demanded it, preparing her for the worst case scenario. "If I lose you-"

"You won't."

Gilgamesh. Her sweet Gilgamesh. Gilgamesh the Strongest Eternal, who would lay down his life for her, and for their mission for humanity, and both in twain if it came to such a conclusion. The ever present ache in the back of her head already knew what it would be like to lose him. She woke from nightmares with it, walked with blank eyes with it. She already knew how bereft any world without him was, in some recesses in her mind.

She knew the world would burn, because either a Celestial would burst from the Earth's core, or she would lose her heart and soul along the way, and burn it to ash herself.

#Thenamesh #man you guys really like your angst #and who am I to deny you?#this is a little evil #but I love it #and I agree #I think Thena would be protective of the life she has with Gil #she's resistant to picking up and leaving #to going back to the life that literally drove her to Mahdness #and affects her #AND GIL #every single day #she doesn't want to put him through anything else #but let's face it #it's Gil who got her out of that house #canonically speaking #it had to be him #who got her on that plane #who got her on that boat #when they are sitting in the forest #it's the first word she's spoken since the scene in Australia #because she almost only talks when it's just her and Gil #even when they're interacting with the rest of the fam #she's looking at Gil when she does speak #or even react to those around her #she says “I don't like this place”#who do you think convinced her to go?#do you think she would be anywhere but home if it weren't for him beside her?!#I could go into heavy detail!!!#AND I WILL

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sequinsmile-x · 2 years

Text

From Now On

She was used to change, and this time she found herself welcoming it.

-x-

Just some Thursday night, relatively pointless, fluff for you all.

Just a PSA: I'm planning on updating my multi-chapters (TWH and I Know the End) over the next week. Apologies for the delay - just haven't had the brain power for multi-chapter!! -x-

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: Pregnancy

Read over on Ao3 in my collection of one-shots and mini-fics, or below the cut

Emily’s whole life had been rife with change, with fresh starts and new beginnings, from the very start. New houses. New towns. New countries. New people. Change was the only constant she’d had, her only friend. The familiar face she could rely on when things were difficult, the knowledge that nothing lasted forever a reassurance she knew most people found troubling.

Joining the BAU was the first true constant she’d had in years. A family she had found in the most unlikely of places, the people she worked with became the most important people to her. So important she threw it all away to save them, leaving the life she had treasured behind in the ashes of what she had allowed herself to hope would be forever.

When she was in Paris, it was the only time in her life when everything stood still. Endless days with no real structure beyond her hospital appointments, her recovery from injuries that absolutely should have killed her. She longed for change, for things to return to how they were, although she knew it wasn’t possible.

When she returned home things were different, and for the first time in her life, she feared change. She tried to fit herself back into the boxes she had thrived in before Doyle had torn through her life for the second time. She tried to be the friend she always had been, giving almost too much of herself to remind herself, and others, that she was still there. That she was the same.

Aaron was the only person who had called her out on it, his offer to help her, to be there for her, was what she now knew to be the start of something else entirely. Another change she hadn’t seen coming, but now couldn’t imagine living without.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?”

She looks up at her husband, and exchanges a small smile with him as her eyes meet his. All of his focus was on her, the rest of the team around the dinner table talking among themselves, Dave’s famous pasta nights now a regular feature in all of their lives.

“I’m ok,” She says, putting her hand on Aaron’s leg and squeezing it gently, “I’m just tired I think.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, making her roll her eyes lovingly as he looks her up and down, his hand falling to her rounded stomach, “Are you having contractions again?”

She narrows her eyes at him, her lip curling upwards in a smile despite herself. She still couldn’t believe this was her life. A doting husband who loved her just as much as she loved him. A little boy she loved as if he was her own. A baby girl growing beneath her skin, only a matter of weeks away from joining them. Another shift in her life, in their life, just around the corner.

“Aaron, it’s going to be a long couple of weeks if you ask me that every time I’m quiet.”

He opens his mouth to respond, his usual defence of just being worried about her on the tip of his tongue when he is interrupted.

“Are you ok, Emily?”

She looks up at JJ to see the concern on her friend's face, sighing as her question draws the attention of everyone else at the table towards her.

“I’m fine,” she replies, reaching for her drink, seriously wishing the glass of juice was wine.

“Women your age are 14% more likely to go into early labour than women in their 30s,” Spencer says, “and 31% more likely to require medical intervention.” Emily glares at him, aware of the way Derek must kick the younger man under the table from how Spencer jumps slightly. “I was just saying that women-”

“Say ‘women your age’ one more time Spence and find out what happens,” she threatens, and he shrinks back into his seat, his brain seeming to finally catch up with his brain. She sighs and feels Aaron’s hand on her shoulder, his presence as reassuring as always, “I’m fine, I promise. I’m just 38 weeks pregnant and tired. It’s perfectly normal for a woman my age.”

It breaks whatever tension had built up at the table, Penelope and JJ snickering into their drinks as Spencer mumbled an apology under his breath. Emily joins in on the laughter as Aaron leans in to kiss her temple, a quiet sorry against her skin for drawing attention to her in the first place.

“I’m so excited to meet her,” Penelope says, setting her wine glass down on the table, “she’s going to be the cutest baby ever.”

“Hey,” JJ says, mock annoyance in her tone as she raises an eyebrow at her friend, receiving a sheepish shrug of the shoulders in return.

“I’m excited too,” Emily replies, shifting in her seat, wincing slightly as she tries to get comfortable, “mostly I’m just excited for there no longer being feet in my ribcage,” she says, rubbing at her bump, smiling at JJ when she shares a sympathetic smile with her, “she definitely has Aaron’s giant feet.”

Aaron doesn’t reply to that, simply squeezing her shoulder a little tighter in a way that made her smile up at him.

“I remember thinking the same thing about Henry,” JJ muses, a soft smile on her face, “I was genuinely surprised at how small he was when he was born.”

“Let's hope this one doesn’t get himself into trouble and send you into labour too, Princess,” Derek says, elbowing Spencer in the side who frowns at the other man.

“Yes, I think we’re all hoping that,” Emily replies, smiling at Spencer from across the table, her previous annoyance at him forgotten. “I’m just taking it as a win that I’ve made it to my maternity leave without going into labour at work, I don’t think the carpet in Pen’s office would have taken it happening twice.”

“You’ll have to let us know when it starts, so we can come to visit you in the hospital,” Penelope says, her enthusiasm flowing off of her in eaves, “I call dibs on first baby cuddles,” she looks at Aaron and Emily and sees the expression on their faces, clearing her throat as she corrects herself, “After her parents, obviously.”

Emily looks up at her husband, and their eyes meet. It was a conversation she’d been putting off for weeks, subtly changing the subject anytime Penelope, or any of the others, commented about seeing the baby the second she was born. A precedent JJ had accidentally set years ago.

It wasn’t what Emily wanted. She and Aaron had discussed it. They were both private people and had been careful to keep a certain amount of their life together private from the team. The first year of their relationship was a secret from them in its entirety until an accident on the way home from a date left them in the ER, Dave still named as Aaron’s emergency contact.

Her life was about to change for the better, and she didn’t want an audience for it as she’d had then. A concussion made worse by endless, and slightly furious, questions from the team. She wanted it to be just her, Aaron and a visit from Jack once the baby was born.

“Actually,” she says, smiling tightly at Aaron when he nods ever so slightly, just enough for her to see it, “We won’t be having any visitors at the hospital.”

It takes a second, a beat of silence as her words sink in.

“What?”

___

Emily groans as the doorbell rings, her head falling back against the couch.

“Aaron,” she calls through the house, knowing he was only in the kitchen, “Can you get that? I only just sat down.”

Comfort was very much a thing of the past for her these days, and anytime she found even the tiniest amount of it she would only move when she absolutely had to.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he replies, already moving towards the front door.

Emily winces as her lower back twinges, and she places her hand on her belly, rubbing it as she feels her daughter shift beneath her skin.

“You’d better be cute, sweet girl,” she mutters, smiling as she feels a kick against her hand.

“Em?”

She looks up, surprised to see Penelope standing right next to her husband, an uncharacteristic nervous smile on her face.

“Pen, hi,” she says flashing a quick smile at her friend, “what are you doing here?”

Things had ended awkwardly the night before to say the least. Penelope had barely covered her upset at Emily’s admission that they weren’t planning on having anyone meeting the baby until they were home and settled. The technical analyst had eventually relented, although it was clear she was still disappointed,

“I wanted to apologise,” Penelope says, approaching the couch and joining Emily, “for last night.”

Emily looks past her friend to her husband. They have a silent, and brief, conversation and he leaves them to it, walking off to continue preparing Emily's lunch.

“It’s ok, Pen, really there was no need to come all the way here.”

“No, it’s ok, I was…being unreasonable,” she straightens her glasses and clears her throat, “I shouldn’t have tried to insert myself into the situation,” Emily narrows her eyes slightly at her friend, the words coming out of her mouth sounding suspiciously like a certain former media liaison. Penelope looks sheepish as their eyes meet, “JJ called me this morning.”

Emily laughs, grateful that the sound covers another wince as her back twinges again, the pain more noticeable this time.

“She read you the riot act, huh?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Penelope replies, her smile widening, “she can be scary when she wants to be.” She becomes serious again. “I am sorry, Em. This is a moment for you and Hotch, you’re a family, and I can wait a couple of days to meet my adorable niece.”

Emily smiles, “Thanks, Pen. Do you want to stay for lunch? Aaron will make whatever I ask him to, it’s one of the perks of being the most pregnant person to ever exist.”

Penelope beams at that, nodding enthusiastically. Her joy at getting this tiny insight into their lives together clear. They eat together, Jack joining them and excitedly talking to Penelope about all his plans for what he was going to do once he was a big brother. As she leaves, Emily gives her friend a big hug before Aaron shows her out.

Emily lowers herself back onto the couch, her hand against her belly as she sucks in a deep breath. She squeezes her eyes shut as her whole lower body feels like it tightens.

“I was thinking, we could…” Aaron says as he walks back into the room, his sentence trialling off as he looks at her, “Em, sweetheart are you ok?”

She nods, “You need to call Jessica, ask her to come to get Jack.”

“What?” He asks, sounding confused as he joins her on the couch, “What are you talking about?”

She scoffs, opening her eyes to look at him. “You’ve been asking me several times a day if I’m in labour for weeks, and the moment I am you don’t realise it.”

“What?” He repeats, standing up so quickly she’s surprised he doesn’t fall back down again. “You’re in labour?”

She nods, her teeth clenched together, “Yes, I am.”

“For how long?”

She smiles at him, a vain attempt to placate him. “Since Pen arrived I think?” He frowns at her, the wrinkle between his eyebrows that she loved making its presence known, and she immediately starts to defend herself. “I didn’t realise what it was at first, but I’ve been having contractions every ten minutes, and they are getting closer.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asks, his hands on his hips as he looks down at her. She can practically see his mind ticking over, his mental checklist he’d had prepared for months ready to go.

“Because she would have wanted to come with us.” She grits out through her teeth, feeling discomfort building in her abdomen again. “Aaron.”

“Yes, Jessica. Jack. I’m going.”

He’s out of the room in a flash, moving faster than she thought was possible as he calls his son’s name up the stairs.

Emily shakes her head at his retreating form, rubbing circles on her stomach as she looks down at it.

“Let’s get this show on the road, little one.”

Their daughter, Alba Hotchner, is born 12 hours later. As Emily holds her for the first time, her fresh start placed against her chest, she has never been so excited for a new beginning.

-x-

My least favourite TV trope is everyone crowding around a bed when someone has just given birth, hence this little fic!!

-x-

Tag list:

@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @sneetchestoo, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77

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#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfic #hotchniss fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss

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spicysagittarius · 2 years

Text

if only you knew, part III

Peter's POV: Em is on Peter's mind constantly, and he can't think of a single flaw. He finds that her voice is just as pretty as everything else about her - but he swears he's heard it before.

Rated E

Click here to read on ao3

For the next few days after the conversation with Em, Peter can’t get his mind off of how vulnerable he’d been. He’s not familiar with the feeling and he’s not sure he wants to be, but something about opening up to her and her reciprocation didn’t freak him out as much as it should have.

He’d told her the truth: being in love terrifies him and so does everything that comes with it. That includes vulnerability, and the deep conversation had sounded like one he would have with a partner. It should freak him out. It should have him anxious and ready to ghost her the way he had with countless women who’d even hinted at wanting to get personal.

Perhaps Em’s different because she isn’t real. She exists, and he knows that, but falling in love with her isn’t really on the table due to the whole penpal-esque connection of theirs. The pressure isn’t there, so an emotional connection isn’t scaring him. Contrary to that, actually, he finds himself wanting to dig deeper; to peel back more layers to all that is Em. He kind of wants to know her real name.

But that would mean the end of their friendship. Peter knows himself. He’d run away.

Just like he did with Felicia.

He’d met Felicia Hardy, the campus flirt, at the beginning of their second year at MIT. Everyone already knew Peter Parker to sleep around, and she had a similar reputation. They’d hooked up within a week and for the first few months, that’s all it was. He hadn’t even learned her last name until three weeks into sleeping with her. Peter and Felicia worked because they wanted the same thing: casual sex and casual sex only.

In January of their sophomore year, they decided to turn their not-relationship into a relationship. It wasn’t because they’d actually connected though. It was because everyone assumed they were dating anyway and she’d needed a date to her cousin’s wedding, not wanting to introduce him as her fuckbuddy. Really, it was just convenient. The wedding was in February, and during the reception, she’d confessed that she wanted more than just sex.

Needless to say, their relationship didn’t last past that conversation. He felt terrible but she understood. And that’s why Felicia was so great. She never invested herself into anything, so she was fine with it besides a little bruise to the ego.

He still feels bad, actually, but not because he thinks she’s still torn up over him. It’s because deep down, he dreams about falling in love with somebody and finding happiness with them. He’s a romantic, despite his refusal to do anything about it.

And maybe, if he didn’t put on a suit most days after school to try and protect the people of Boston, he’d be less hesitant to let himself fall in love.

Because being Spider-Man means that he isn’t just terrified of losing someone he loves. It means that he’s equally terrified of them losing him.

The daydream he has frequently of a wife and a baby and a happy home often turns into a waking nightmare.

The nightmare varies. Sometimes, he leaves them to take down another villain, promising to come home soon, only to meet his end and break his promise. The woman he loves is made a widow and left to raise their baby alone. A baby with his eyes: a painful reminder of what they lost. Of the choice he made: the mask instead of his family.

Sometimes, he imagines coming home from patrol and finding their bodies; their lives taken by his enemies. Other times, a twisted version of this nightmare torments him: he finds them alive, but in evil hands, and he can’t save them. This version is far worse because he’s forced to watch them die. His entire world is taken from him and he’s helpless to stop it. All because he chose Spider-Man. He’s the one that kills them.

So it doesn’t matter how much Peter craves romance and connection. Any chance of romantic success was taken from him almost ten years ago. He’s made peace with that now.

And this is why Em is safe.

It’s Saturday night, and for Peter, it’s the one night a week he doesn’t patrol unless the city really needs him. Tonight’s no different — Ned, Johnny and Abe had convinced him to try a new bar downtown. Normally, he’d have done the convincing, but for some reason he’s not in the mood to go out. He’s only joined them because Ned had pulled the birthday card. That fucker. Technically, his birthday’s on Wednesday, but Ned’s always been too persuasive for his own good.

They find an available pool table and set up to play after grabbing their drinks, and whilst Ned and Johnny start playing, Abe pulls Peter aside.

“What’s up, man?”

Peter tries to look confused. “What do you mean?”

It doesn’t work. Abe shoots him a look that says: Don’t be an idiot. “You’re the party animal, dude. Usually, by this time, you’ve got some girl sipping your beer and laughing at whatever godawful pun you’ve thrown at her.” Abe shudders.

“They aren’t awful,” Peter says defensively.

“They’re the worst, man. I seriously don’t know how that works so well every time.”

They both chuckle. “Ladies love science puns. You’re just a hater.”

“Point is,” Abe continues, “you’re sulking. You never sulk, not when you’re surrounded by hot girls that — for whatever reason — want to fuck you after a single chemistry pun. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

And Abe’s right. The bar’s full of beautiful women. Last week, he would’ve been in heaven.

“I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” Abe pats him on the shoulder, keeping his eyes on Ned and Johnny as they continue their game. “Get it off your chest, Pete. I got you.”

Peter takes a deep breath. “Trust me, it’s stupid. It’s this girl.”

He watches as Abe’s eyes shoot to him, full of surprise. “Don’t tell me Parker’s got his first crush.”

“I don’t know. No. I mean, I don’t even know her name.” Abe’s brow furrows in confusion. “It’s a really long story, but I found something of hers that had her number on it, so I texted her to return it, and we’ve been talking ever since.”

His friend nods slowly. “How long ago was this?”

“Like, two weeks ago.”

“Have you met her?”

Peter sighs. “Nope. That’s the thing. I don’t even know what she looks like. The whole thing is so…middle school.”

Abe nods again. “Stranger danger. She could be a fifty-year-old dude.”

“She’s not. She goes to MIT.”

“There are fifty-year-old dudes who go to MIT, you know.”

“I know that, but just…trust me, she’s not.” Peter feels his cheeks heat up involuntarily.

“Peter Parker!” Abe whisper-yells, clapping him on the back. “You haven’t met, so you haven’t fucked…so, what?”

He can feel his blush deepen. “That’s not the point, man. It’s more than that. She’s…she’s so smart. And she’s got this really witty sense of humour. Seriously, she’s one of the funniest people I’ve ever talked to.”

Abe just watches him with a slight smile as he continues.

“And…I dunno. She feels safe. Talking to her makes me happy. And I don’t even know her name.”

“So why the fuck haven’t you asked?” Abe questions incredulously. “Why haven’t you met up with her yet? That makes no sense.”

“Because…” he struggles to find the right explanation without giving too much away. “Because it would complicate things. You know I don’t do relationships, and she seems to prefer the anonymity, too. It’s easier to be vulnerable with someone that doesn’t know your name.”

“Like a secret identity,” his friend smirks. Peter chuckles at the irony,

“I guess so?”

“Peter! Abe!” Ned shouts at them, buzzed off his third pint. “We’re setting up the next game! Doubles?”

Abe claps Peter on the back again. “Well, that wasn’t stupid, but it does sound complicated.”

Peter nods in agreement, grabbing a cue from the rack above the table.

“A word of advice, though, Pete?” He turns to Abe, watching him grab his own cue. “Self-sabotage is your worst enemy. Every time you find something that makes you happy, you immediately convince yourself that you don’t deserve it and continue punishing yourself instead.”

A painful lump forms in his throat as Abe continues.

“Let go. Just this once.”

With that, he leaves Peter and joins their other friends like he hadn’t just called him out perfectly. Peter just stands there for a few seconds, willing the sob in his chest away.

He spends the rest of the night in the corner of the crowded bar with his friends. Throughout the night, he turns down conversations with several attractive women that come up to hit on him, remaining polite but uninterested.

Peter’s mind stays on Em. They’ve been talking every day, and the only reason they aren't deep in conversation now is because he’s with friends and she’s on a date. He’d felt a twinge of jealousy when she’d told him about it earlier that day, one that she’d immediately spotted.

You must really like me, spiderman, she’d teased. Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s not as well-read as you.

Of course, her jokes didn’t erase any of the misplaced jealousy he felt, but it lightened his mood tenfold.

With my luck, he’ll have read Crosby’s entire body of work, he’d joked with her.

It scares him how much he misses her when they’re apart, even though technically, they’re always apart. The ridiculousness of the situation should turn him off from her, but it doesn’t.

When Peter gets home, it’s nearing 2am and he’s a little tipsy from however many pints he’d had. Perhaps it’s the alcohol that encourages him to text her now instead of waiting until the morning to hear about her date.

How did it go?

His phone dings with her reply about five minutes later. He’s relieved she’s awake.

Em: If you must know, he prefers Jennifer Young to Kathryn Crosby.

More of a historical smut guy?

Em: Definitely.

So, too vanilla for you. That’s too bad.

Em: The opposite, actually. You’d be surprised.

He feels that twinge of jealousy again. Had she just gotten laid? And if so, why did it matter?

Oh, it went that well?

Em: Nah, nothing really happened. He’s studying architecture. Wouldn’t stop bragging about his latest design. I don’t think I got a word in the whole night.

Damn, that sucks. Not for Peter, though.

Em: I’m not torn up about it. The only reason I went was to get laid.

Been frustrated lately?

Em: You have know idea.

You could’ve just told me that instead of spending hours with a boring douchebag.

Em: Oh yeah? And how would that help?

Don’t act like that orgasm wasn’t mind-blowing, Em.

Em: Can’t lie, it was pretty great. I don’t think I’ve ever cum that fast in my life.

You flatter me.

Em: No, really. You got me wondering what that dirty mouth of yours is capable of if it did all that over text.

I could show you?

Em: Very funny.

That wasn’t a proposition to come over or anything, Em.

I’ve just been dying to hear your voice.

Em: Did you just offer me phone sex

If you want.

A minute later, Peter’s phone buzzes with a phone call. He can barely hear it over the pounding of his heart, and he takes a second to take a deep breath.

He picks it up on the next ring. “Em?”

“That was pretty confident of you.” Oh, god. Her voice is beautiful. It’s not high-pitched but it’s breathy and articulate and so fucking pretty.

“Well, yeah. You just complained about needing an orgasm, didn’t you? It wasn’t too much of a risk.”

She hesitates. “You know, I swear you sound familiar.”

The second she says it, Peter realises that so does she. He racks his brain but can’t place where he’s heard her voice. “So do you.”

“Whatever. We go to the same school. I’m not too surprised.”

“True.”

“How was your night?”

“Went to this bar with a few friends. Couldn’t stop thinking about you on your date.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yep. Kept thinking about Mr. Jennifer Young charming the literal pants off of you.”

“I wish.”

“Couldn’t shake the image of some hunk getting to make you cum over and over again.”

“Mm, so it really irked you, then.”

“Not anymore, though.”

“Not anymore.” Her voice gets impossibly breathier.

“What are you wearing, baby?

Peter can practically hear her eye-roll. “How original.”

“Em. What are you wearing.”

A beat. Then: “Oversized tee. But I’m wearing a lace set under that.”

“Yeah? Did you wear that under your dress tonight?”

“Yes.”

“I want you to take off the shirt for me.”

He hears shuffling. “It’s off now.”

“Good.” Peter has no idea where his confidence is coming from with her. “I want you to get that vibrator you told me about last week.”

She doesn’t respond, but he can tell she’s obeying him from the creak of her bedsprings. “Cheeky, Spider-Man.”

He ignores her. “Turn it on and leave it against your panties.”

A weak “Okay,” is the only reply he gets, and he can hear the insistent buzz of the toy through the phone. “Shit.”

“Did you think about me tonight?”

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She teases, even with a toy against her panties.

“Yeah. So answer my question.”

“Mm, a few times.”

“Did he offer to take you home?”

“Yeah. His roommate’s gone for the weekend. He said we’d have the place to ourselves.”

“And what did you say, Em?”

“I said no.”

“Why?”

“Shit. Because he wouldn’t make me cum. He would’ve only cared about himself. I wasn’t into that.”

Peter tsks, smirking. “What a shame. Lucky me, though. You’re here talking to me with a vibe between your legs, and I’m the reason you’re gonna cum. Not him.”

Despite it all, she snorts. It’s unbearably cute. “Lucky you indeed.”

“Oh, absolutely. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Peter switches the phone to his left hand, freeing his right to palm his stiffening cock over his trousers. “If it were me, I would’ve taken you home and got you out of that little dress the second I could. I would’ve gotten to see that pretty underwear you mentioned.”

“Hold on a sec,” Em whispers. He can hear more shuffling, waiting for about a minute before his phone dings. He realises what it is the second she chuckles.

“You didn’t.”

“See for yourself.”

“Talk about cheeky.” He grumbles, moving to see the picture she’s taken and sent him. An instinctual growl rips from his chest as he’s gifted a view of an unbelievable set of black lingerie. Em’s got a mirror on the wall next to her bed, it looks like, because she’s posing on her side again with the phone strategically held in front of her face. Her breasts sit in a revealing push-up bra, and against the matching panties, a white magic wand is positioned to torture her clit. “Fuck!”

His cock, now achingly hard, throbs in his trousers. Peter’s quick to undo them as he groans into the phone. “Em, Jesus Christ.”

“I take it you like the set.”

“You’re so sexy,” he breathes as he grips his dick through his briefs. “I can’t wait to make you cum.”

“Do it, then,” she whimpers.

Fuck. “Turn up the vibrator.” She does. “Against your clit. Under your panties this time.” She does.

“Fuck,” she moans. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard.

“Ever since the first time we did this, I can’t stop thinking about fucking you. And the fantasy just keeps getting dirtier. You, fuck, you drive me crazy.”

“What do you mean, dirtier?”

“Yesterday I imagined web— tying your hands to my headboard and overstimulating you until you couldn’t move,” he explains gruffly, finally freeing himself from the confines of his boxers. He hears her whine. “I imagined making you cry, overwhelmed with how good I’m making you feel. I bet you cry so pretty, baby.”

“Oh, god.”

“After I finished with my fingers, I’d flip you over onto your stomach and fuck into you from behind. You like having someone pull your hair while they fuck you?”

“It’s one of my biggest turn-ons. The last guy I fucked, he…he’d either be pushing my face into the mattress or tugging my hair and I fucking loved it.”

“You like it rough, then?”

“Every time.”

“Dirty girl. Fucking made for me, I swear. I want you to turn the toy up all the way and tell me what else gets you off.”

More shuffling, then a whine neither of them expect. “Fuck, it’s too…I can’t take it.”

“You have to. Now tell me what else gets you soaked.”

Her response trips over moans and gasps. “The- the last guy he- he’d tell me off every t-time I moaned and he…he eventually got f- fuck- he got fed up and sh-shoved his fingers in my mouth.” The last few words are rushed as the wand in her panties torments her mercilessly; the buzz loud and clear through the phone.

Peter curses and pumps his cock quickly as he imagines fucking her the same way. “Such a good girl. Just want someone taking charge, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she gasps.

“Is the vibrator too much for you, Em?”

“God!” She sobs. “It hurts. I’m so sensitive.”

“You wanna stop?”

“No, no, no.” She pleads. “I can take it, I can take it.”

“Good girl.” He’s so fucking close.

“Say it again.” The words are a gasp and he knows she’s right on the edge.

“You like that? Being called a good girl? Just want to be good for me so I’ll mention how well you take it?”

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers in a panicked tone, right before a high-pitched sob tumbles out of her.

“You sound even prettier when you cum than I imagined.”

She doesn’t respond, gasping breathlessly for a few seconds. It’s her fucked-out whimper when she comes back to earth that makes him lose it, and he releases with a groan into his hand.

“You sound pretty too,” Em whispers once he’s finished.

“Fuck, baby.” He’s exhausted.

“That was…”

“I know.”

“You wore me out. Jesus. I’m literally about to pass out.”

“Ditto.” He’s quick to go wash his hands, sleepy from the climax and the alcohol combined.

That’s how Peter falls asleep Saturday night: Em against his ear, right after the cliche of phone sex, both unwilling to hang up the phone.

Tuesday creeps up on him, and soon enough, he’s in Dunn’s lecture again. Today, they’re working in their partnerships, so he sits next to Michelle as she talks his goddamn ear off about the presentation.

“—And I can’t meet up after the lecture today, because one of the kids I tutor rescheduled, so we’ll have to do it a different day this week. Are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah. You could’ve just said you had plans. Would’ve saved both of us some time.”

She glares at him. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

It’s clearly sarcasm, but he still replies: “Apology accepted.”

Her jaw clenches in frustration. “When are you free this week.” It’s not a question, it’s a threat.

“You interested?” He chuckles. Michelle drops her head in her hands and he feels a little guilty. Fair. That was pretty annoying. “Fine, fine. I can do Thursday, but I don’t know exactly what time. Ned wants to hang out.”

“Fine. Give me your phone.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“God, you don’t ever stop, do you? I need your phone so I can give you my number. It’s only so you can let me know what time you want to meet up. Jesus.”

“Whatever.” Peter snaps, tossing his phone at her. She dials her number into the keypad, tapping the screen aggressively in annoyance.

Suddenly, she drops his phone onto the table in front of her with a gasp.

“Hey, what the fuck?” He says angrily, snatching his phone from where it landed. It’s not until he glances at the screen that he registers why she dropped it.

He already has Michelle’s number.

The familiar contact profile under her number taunts him, mocks him through the screen.

Em.

#eek #fics #petermj #spideychelle #peter parker x michelle jones #petermj smut #petermj fic #spideychelle fic #spideychelle week 2022 #these idiots #lol

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