#CW: concussion

[runraerun]

Steddie Amnesia Fic — 3/3

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3

wc: 3k | rating: T | cw: head trauma, brain injury talk | a special thank you to @dame-zoom-a-lot for betaing! <3

The days following Steve’s Houdini act are fuckin’ tense, to say the least.

Eddie had messed up. Royally.

He could’ve sworn that when Steve took off, he’d ducked into the Recovery Center, y’know, the place he was supposed to go! If Eddie had known Steve took a detour and missed the building entirely, Eddie would’ve ran a lot fucking faster than he had. Especially after…

Well, no point in shying away from it anymore; after Steve confessed his love for him.

And how did Eddie return the favor? By being a total bone head and losing Steve for the entire goddamn day! Not to mention a good chunk of the night. Jesus… It’s no wonder Robin’s still sore.

Now, in Eddie’s flimsy defense, Steve had thrown him for one hell of a loop. One that Eddie was still seeing double from. He’s still having trouble wrapping his head around what he’d heard; Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington, King of Hawkins High, being into Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson, the drug-dealing ne’er do well hailing from the Forest Hills trailer park. Forgive him for finding the threads a little difficult to tie together! He’s not exactly Steve’s usual fare.

But it had happened.

Things have fundamentally, metaphysically, allegorically and subatomically shifted between the two of them—there’s no getting away from that, no matter how long they try and dance around this.

Steve said he loved Eddie. Love.

That isn’t something you just move on from. At least, it isn’t something Eddie can move on from. Especially when he didn’t even get to say his piece!

The trouble is that Robin’s in all-out guard dog mode with Steve, keeping Eddie at arm's length even after a whole goddamn week goes by. Sure, she’d accepted his apology (albeit begrudgingly), but she isn’t exactly keen on letting Steve out of the house without her by his side—much less with Eddie. It would be kind of heartwarming if it weren’t so goddamn annoying.

Steve isn’t some damsel locked away in a tower, and Eddie wasn’t some knight in shining armor, planning to scale the side of a stone tower to avoid the sleeping, fire-breathing dragon…

But as Eddie stares up at the fire escape attached to the side of Steve and Robin’s brick apartment building… he'd be lying if he said he didn’t sort of feel a little shiny.

Part of Eddie can’t believe it’s really come to this, but… he just can’t stand the idea of wasting another goddamn night tossing and turning, going over and over Steve’s words in his mind. Thinking about the way Steve’s hand felt in his, the way his eyes went all soft when he told Eddie he—he loved him…

Jesus H. Christ, this is way beyond his skill set—he’s way out of fucking league here, but there’s nothing for it. Eddie needs to settle this, once and for all.

So, he takes his bandana from the back pocket of his jeans and presses the flat of it to his forehead while his hands make a tight knot in the back. He zips his leather jacket as high as it’ll go and gives his hands a shake to try and get the jitters out.

It’s not exactly a helmet and plates of armor, but it’ll have to do. Eddie takes a breath, steels himself, then climbs on top of a precariously stacked pile of milk crates that he’d crafted and leaps for the steel ladder. As soon as his feet leave the plastic tower, it collapses under him, clattering to the ground. Eddie knows he shouldn’t look back, but he sneaks a peak over his shoulder and… yep. He really shouldn’t’ve looked. He’s not that high up, but it’s enough that if he falls, he’d be feeling it tomorrow. Might even bust an ankle if he landed wrong.

He turns back to the task at hand; getting to Steve.

There’s a terrifying moment where he’s not sure if he can pull himself up, but somehow, he finds the strength to do just that. If only Coach D’Amour could see him now!

He grunts as he pulls himself up onto the platform, belly getting scratched against the grates as he goes. Eddie scrambles to get his legs underneath himself. Then, he stands, dusts himself off and takes the win, graceless as it was.

The fire escape is rickety and fucking loud as he takes the steps two at a time. It’s cold enough that even the quickest touch of the steel railings drains all the heat out of his fingers, so he just keeps them balled up, swinging at his sides. The wind is especially chilly up here too, something he hadn’t noticed on the ground, but now that he’s up a couple of floors there wasn’t anything for the wind to buff off except the side of the building and, well, Eddie.

By the time he reaches the third floor, his nose is running and no doubt red and irritated looking, and he’s woefully out of breath.

Kind of a pathetic knight, he thinks as he sniffs back the worst of it, wipes the underside of his nose on the sleeve of his jacket to get rid of what’s left.

The light in Steve’s room is on, reaching out to him through the lines of Steve’s shut blinds.

His hand is raised, wind-chapped knuckles knocking against the glass of his window before he can plan out what he’s going to say. He just wants to see Steve. Get eyes on him again. Work this out.

It’s a painful few seconds before Eddie can see movement from inside the window. He bounces on the balls of his feet as he impatiently waits for Steve to let him in. His breath fogs the window.

Then finally. Finally! The blinds are pulled up. He smiles and—

Oh Christ on a cross. That’s not Steve.

Eddie’s stomach damn near falls out of his ass as the woman on the other side of the glass screams, as shrill and high as if she were next to him.

And of course she’s in a fucking towel.

Eddie slaps one hand across his eyes and the other up in surrender, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Shit, Jesus, I—I’m not a pervert, I swear!”

Debatable, his brain supplies, entirely unhelpful in an emergency situation. But hey, what’s new?

“I was looking for my friend, not—Please stop screaming!” He screams.

“Eddie?” A familiar voice calls from below.

The hand on Eddie’s eyes lift and looks down through the metal grates under his boots. “Steve!”

Steve’s hanging half out his window, peering up at him with a bewildered expression on his face. “What’re you doing?”

Eddie holds his arms out like it should be obvious. “Seeing you!” He snaps.

Eddie’s attention is briefly yanked back to the scandalized looking woman in the window in front of him. “I’m—yeah, I’m gonna—” He backs away, and swings around the escape before thundering down the stairs, shouting another apology up in his shameful retreat.

Steve backs up in order to let Eddie in. He climbs in as gracelessly as ever, all knees and elbows, stiff from the cold. He slides the window shut behind him once he’s in, dropping the blinds for good measure.

He wonders if Hopper is getting a call about a long-haired, wild-eyed, deranged looking peeping Tom at this very moment.

“Smooth.” Steve says from behind him, an edge of playfulness.

When Eddie turns and finally gets a good look at Steve, who looks especially comfortable in his flannel sleep pants and worn sweater, hands on hips. “I was looking for you.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Steve snorts softly, “third floor, remember?”

“I counted! Ground floor, first floor, second floor, third floor.” Eddie says, using his hand to indicate his pattern of thought, moving it up a tick with each floor.

Steve scoffs, shaking his head. And even though Eddie knows Steve’s laughing at him, he can’t help that warm feeling that pours through him, filling him up. All his cracks and edges, sealed up with Steve’s effortless being.

“No.” Steve raises his own hand, mirroring Eddie’s. He begins notching as he explains, “ground floor, second floor, third floor. The ground is the first floor, dude.”

Eddie frowns. “What? Since when?”

Steve levels Eddie with a flat look. “Since like, the civil war, dude.”

Huh. Eddie frowns. Mulling over the new bit of information. That would’ve been nice to know.

“Why were you even doing out there in the first place? We have things called front doors. And, y’know, phones.” Steve crosses his arms across his chest, losing a bit of steam as the words left him. Like he’s realized exactly what Eddie being here, in his rooms, meant.

“I had to see you.” Eddie says, like it’s not the most obvious thing in the world, “Face to face, just me and you.”

“Can’t we just—I don’t know, pretend all of… that never happened? Hell, it might drop out of my head one of these days anyway. Lots of shit does.” Steve’s says, sounding so fucking defeated that it sends a sharp pain through Eddie’s chest.

“Hey,” Eddie makes a face, gets in Steve’s space, “don’t be a jerk to yourself.”

He ducks his head in an attempt to meet Steve’s downturned gaze, which he reluctantly returns. He’s got these big, warm eyes, the color of dark honey—the kind that are hard to look away from, so Eddie rarely does. He’a got a staring problem, he knows, but… damn. Can you really blame a guy?

A nerve in Steve’s jaw jumps when he clenches his teeth together, and salt pools begin forming along the rim of those familiar eyes. When he speaks, it’s stiff. Barely above a whisper. “I’m embarrassed, alright?”

“You don’t gotta be embarrassed, man.” Without thought, Eddie’s hands go to Steve’s arms, fingers hovering around his elbows. Eddie tilts his head again to try and keep eye contact again but Steve seems determined to avoid it.

“Easy for you to say.” Steve huffs, and sits down on the edge of his bed, slipping out of Eddie’s hold, arms still crossed over his chest. “You didn’t totally humiliate yourself in front of your—friend.”

The word, one in which Eddie holds in a most sacred of views, sounds distinctly hollow when Steve says it.

“Steve, listen to me, just for a sec, alright?” Eddie gets down to the floor, one knee buried in the carpet while the others bent out in front of him. “This is my fault.” He confesses, voice full of remorse.

Finally, Steve looks at him. His brows twitch together as he makes a face. “Bullshit.”

“No, it’s true! I—I didn’t mean to, but I’m not exactly big on the whole impulse control thing, as you know, and, thinking back on things I probably… I probably let a few things slip.” Eddie explains, his rings clinking together lightly as he gestures with his hands.

Steve, however, doesn’t look any less confused. He blinks. “What?”

Eddie lets his head fall forward in a moment of defeat as he attempts to gather up his fleeting thoughts. It’s like chasing wet, feral cats up there!

Still, he picks himself back up. For Steve.

“What I’m trying to say is…” Eddie puts his hands on Steve’s knees. Feels the warmth under the soft, worn flannel. The hard muscle. Alive, whole. He tightens his grip. “Steve, I’ve been crazy about you since the first time I ever saw you. Don’t roll your eyes—I’m serious! You sat in front of me in math one year and you forgot your pencil. We were having a test that day, and you asked me if you could borrow one of mine, so I let you have the one I was using. You chewed up the end of it, squashed the eraser to all hell, but then when you gave it back to me, you smiled, thanked me and said, ‘I owe you one.’ It—okay, yeah, so it sounds, like, really small, and probably pretty pathetic, but… I was totally starstruck, man.”

At some point in his little spiel, Steve had uncrossed his arms. So Eddie takes the opportunity to clumsily take Steve’s hands, his insides feeling like a kicked hornets nest. Buzzing. He swallows. “I still am.”

Steve keeps his mouth shut, but there’s a knot in him that’s loosening, Eddie can tell. He’s just gotta keep tugging. He squeezes Steve’s fingers.

“The feeling was cranked up a few hundred clicks because of all the, y’know, near death experiences we went through together. But you get it now, right? You get how this is all my fault?”

“Eddie, you don’t have to—” Steve starts, hands stiffening in Eddie’s hold. Slipping away. But Eddie holds firm, decides to just fucking say it. If Steve could, Eddie could too.

“I’m in love with you too.” He blurts out, and now that he’s said it out loud, it’s like there’s a dam that gets busted inside of him; he can’t stop the rush of words that follows the confession. “That’s what you were seeing. That’s what you were noticing. I thought I was being slick, just keeping it friendly or whatever. Flirting, yeah, but I didn’t think you’d ever actually reciprocate. Because, honestly man, I’m not really used to people taking me all that seriously. ‘Zany, pot-head Eddie, can’t trust anything that comes out of his crooked mouth!’”

Eddie shakes his head, scoffing at his own blind spots, “But… you saw right through that shit—right through me. You didn’t make it up in your head, Steve—you felt it. You were right.”

Steve’s got a funny look on his face, but he nods. A lock of hair falls over his forehead, but he doesn’t remove his hands from Eddie’s to fix it. “You love me?”

That’s like asking if the sun would rise tomorrow morning. Of course. Of course.

Eddie pulls one of Steve’s hands and flattens it onto his chest, over the leather.

“Every time my heart beats, it's your name it calls out, man.” Eddie says, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he sees the red creep up on the apples of Steve’s cheeks. “D’you feel it?”

Steve gives a breathless chuckle, hesitating for a split second before he nods, playing along.

Electricity hums under Eddie’s skin, the resulting static snaps in the air around them. Eddie presses Steve’s hand against the wall of his chest a little harder, so that he can feel the pounding a bit better. Then Eddie whispers in time with the rhythm of his lovesick heart, giving it a voice, “Ste-vie, Ste-vie, Ste-vie…”

He keeps chanting until Steve’s grinning, eyes glued to their joined hands. It’s a fleeting thing, though. Eddie watches as that hard-won smile drops and a pinched look takes its place. “Even now? Eddie, I’m not—I don’t think I’m the same person I was before.”

“Are you kidding me? Especially now. In sickness and in health, right?” Somewhere in his brain an alarm sounds, but he doesn’t pause long enough to acknowledge exactly why, lest he lose momentum, “look, Steve, even if you are a little different from the guy you were in high school, you’re still you.”

A beat passes. “What if I never get better?”

“Steve, you will, the doctors said—”

“But what if I don’t? Jesus, Eddie, what if I get worse?” Steve’s voice had gone progressively more hushed as he spoke, as if he were so afraid of its possibility that even voicing it felt risky. Made it real, even in that small way. It’s something Steve’s thought about, Eddie realizes. Agonized over, even.

“Then I’m the lucky son of a bitch that gets to take care of you.” Eddie says, sure as shit. Truthfully, he can’t think of anything else he’d rather do, even if Steve hadn’t done a completely insane thing like falling in love with Eddie. His love isn’t conditional. “S’long as you’ll let me.” He tacks on.

It’s like a wall crumbling. Brick by brick, Eddie watches Steve’s resolve collapse. The rim of his eyes shine with unshed tears, his brow relaxes and his chin twitches. “You sure you want that?”

He scoffs, eyes wide. “It’s all I want.” He answers, quickly. A reflex. Who wouldn’t want to be with Steve Harrington? Eddie thought he was lucky just to be in the same fucking orbit as the guy, but now…

Now, as he watches a smile slowly spreads across Steve’s face—fucking Adonis incarnate—it feels like he won the goddamn lottery.

“Okay.” Steve utters, so softly that for a second Eddie thinks he’d imagined it.

“Okay?” Eddie asks, trying his damndest to keep from imploding. He’s fucking vibrating in his skin.

Instead of answering Eddie, Steve decides to clarify himself by leaning forward and pressing his mouth against Eddie’s.

Fireworks go off inside of Eddie, every inch of him. All lit up. Feels like he’s shining just as good as any knight.

One of Steve’s hands snake their way behind Eddie’s neck, pulling him closer, while the other remains held over Eddie’s jackrabbiting heart. Their lips part, and their kiss deepens. Eddie tries to keep up.

They eventually end up on Steve’s narrow twin bed laying side by side, legs entangled, kissing until their mouths go dry. Eddie swipes a calloused thumb over Steve’s cheek, savoring the feeling of the barely there stubble, the heat from the blush that never seems to subside.

They don’t speak for the rest of the night. Not even a ‘goodnight’ after Steve crawls over Eddie to flick off his bedside lamp, tugging the comforter up around their shoulders as he settles back into the safe harbor of Eddie’s arms. They don’t need words. Not tonight, anyway. Tonight, all they need to do is to rest.

Whatever comes after, they’ll deal with it together.

—

Tag List: (if you’d like to be added to a permanent tag list for all my Steddie fics, please comment/message me! ◡̈ thank you for reading, everyone!)

@stervrucht @taylortheyellowlobster @eyehartart @jinojiboundagain @sleepy-steve @lexgilga @morallyundefined @estrellami-1 @ollieolive @mugloversonly @wheneverfeasible @steddiefication @what-if-a-dragon @wrenisfangirling @yesdangerpls @flustratedcas @scarletyeager @snowstar2368 @starxlark @jizzing-bastard-600and69 @bambibiest @queenie-ofthe-void @lilpomelito @bananahoneycomb @kaspurrcat @deadwhiterosesstuff @3vilpurpl3d0t @loudmariachibands @steddieislife @questionablequeeries @lil-gremlin-things @ellietheasexylibrarian @ajeff855 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @thedragonsaunt @hello-sweetheart @stalactitekilla @archermightbegay @horror-music @breealtair @stevesharingtons @duraffinity @novacorpsrecruit @lawrencebshoggoth @tinyplanet95 @bookworm0690 @shoujo-wizard @weepsluv111 @justalittledrainbamage

[karlkapri]

― from War is Kind ["Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind”], Stephen Crane

Hockey Poetry Post 53/?

(Photo credit: Tony Gutierrez, link, link, Smiley N. Pool, link, Steph Chambers, Jennifer Buchanan, Ashley Potts, Steph Chambers, Steph Chambers, Ashley Potts, Dean Rutz, Stephen Brashear, Matthew J. Lee, link, Bob DeChiara, Maddie Meyer, link, Sam Navarr, Wilfredo Lee, Sam Navarro, John Locher, Patrick Smith, Ellen Schmidt, link, John Locher, link)

[sleepyfan-blog]

Seeing Double

Author’s Note: This is Mer-Trai’s debut! I hope that you enjoy the fic! :D Next

Tagged: @bleedingichorhearts @kit-williams @the-pure-angel @egrets-not-regrets

Warnings: mention of torture, bodily mutilation, concussion, dehydration, worship, wounds

Summary: Trai is rescued by a saintly baseline human.  

Pain and exhaustion greet him when he wakes. They are old, familiar foes, and hunger joins as he slowly blinks his way to full awareness. He finds himself where he had been the past... He's not entirely sure how long he's been here, but this too, he will survive. The aching pain in his head has not gone away, and some of the wounds that his captors gave him the last time they'd graced him with their presence had not fully healed. 

Given that he hasn't been fed for as long as he's been captured, the fact that he isn't healing as swiftly as he used to be isn't surprising. The gods grant him the patience and strength to weather this trial. His brothers will find him, he just needs to wait. 

The large gold and red mer stares into the too-bright lights, the electric buzz not helping his headache any. His breathing is measured and shallow as he closes his eyes again, trying to conserve what little energy he has, as his wounds itch and burn as they slowly heal. 

Trai deliberately does not allow himself to flinch as the door to his cell slams open. He is not a wide-eyed neophyte who startles at the sounds of his captors' trying to torment him. 

He bears his teeth - his armor having long been stripped of his body by his human captors - and hisses as a small, cool hand touches his tail, just above where one of the metal stakes had been buried through his flesh, pinning him to the metal table he'd been strapped to. 

"Oh... You're alive... Oh fuck! Hey guys! I found a live one! We're going to need a medic!" The human who had the gall to touch his tail shouted- causing his headache to spike most unpleasantly. "Oh... Oh buddy... Do you know this language? Please look at me and either say something or blink once if you do understand me."

Trai opened his eyes, sending the human - humans? He could see two of them, standing one slightly to the left of the other, mirror images of one another that moved at the -

Ah. 

Concussion. Wonderful. He opened his mouth, revealing the fact that his tongue had been cut out - and cauterized, to further slow healing of the appendage, as he had cursed his captors with some very entertaining miseries for the gall to torment him as they had been. He deliberately blinked up at the two-maybe-one human(s).

"Oh... Oh they... Okay, I'm going to use these pliers to get the... Get the... The stakes pinning you to the table out. We've arrested the people who've been running this place. Please don't attack me, though it will hurt when I pull these things out of you." The human(s) said in unison. "After that... I have some of the nutrient paste that space marines really like, and a bottle of water. Are you hungry?"

Yes, he definitely had a concussion... And was quite possibly hallucinating or dreaming. This was a nice dream, even though he'd rather his brothers be the ones rescuing him, rather than more fucking baseline humans. Trai gamely and deliberately blinked once while maintaining eye contact with the human(s). The mention of food and water was enough to get him to smile hopefully. He stayed still as the little goddess before him industriusly freed him from his bonds.

He held in his hisses of pain as best as he could, and she made worried noises as he began to bleed sluggishly from where he had been pinned to the table. With considerable effort, Trai activated his ability to swim through the air, slowly and painfully pushing himself into an upright position. He sniffed the air, her distress and determination clear to him. he could also smell the nutrient paste in his pockets and lightly tapped at the pocket with teh food with a clawed hand, careful not to piece the flimsy cloth, staring down at her pleadingly.

"Right, food." She responded, pulling out the tube of nutrient paste and holding it out to him.

Trai crooned out in wordless thanks, though his useless, trembling hands could not keep hold of the tube - then again he probably had nerve damage from the eight holes bored clear through each arm from those fucking stakes that had been drilled through his body until moments ago. He peered down at her, humiliation, desperation and hope warring for dominance on his face. He'd heard whispers that some humans were brave enough to hand-feed astartes they were comfortable with, despite many space marines having wickedly sharp teeth.

She nimbly caught the tube before it could fall to the ground. Disappointment and worry flashed across her face, before determination set in. "Okay. You don't seem to be able to hold onto the tube by yourself right now.. Uhm... If you crouch down a bit, I can feed you? If you want that? I could also squeeze some of it out onto the table, if you'd rather eat it that way?"

Trai shook his head slowly, one clawed hand going up to his head as nausea and dizziness plagued him at the motions. He opened his mouth and hunched over her, trying not to seem threatening. He was so, so hungry, and this little goddess had already helped him tremendously.

"Okay! Feeding  you it is." His lovely goddess chirped up at him. She was easily able to open the cap and remove the purity seal before squeezing a small mouthful into his waiting jaws.

Trai whined before slowly closing his mouth and swallowing. He wanted more than that little bit... But given the way his stomach cramped at that small amount of food, perhaps starting off the feeding slowly was for the best. Once the waves of nausea faded he opened his mouth again. 

This time he was rewarded by his goddess with a slightly larger mouthful of water. It was de-salinated, but he did not care as the cool liquid hydrated what was left of his tongue and soothed the worst of his ravaged throat. He didn't care that he was purring loudly, nor that he had started to lean on his little goddess as she continued to slowly feed and water him. Her kindness was boundless and her generosity endless. She was worthy of all the worship within his being. When his belly was filled as much as he could tolerate, and his thirst was quenched to the point of no longer trying to drive him to madness he closed his mouth again and did not open it, pressing his head against her cool shoulder, exhaustion and the need to allow his body to heal more fully took him over.

[nextstopwonderland]

“Nigel McGuinness…you’ve been my toughest opponent.” - August 25, 2006. Nigel McGuinness leaves the ring after their 2 out of 3 falls match goes to a draw, only to return to check on and stay with Bryan Danielson, embracing him when he’s back on his feet. (On Youtube)

Bonus (shorter, embedded) edit of just the parts where Nigel is basically like “I fucking got this” to everyone in the ring, wanting to the main person to make sure he’s okay:

[prof-hemp420]

What a mess. Welcome back tho, it's good to see you cognizant again.

More or less.

Two concussions cannot be good for me.

[mischefous]

Ayooo I saw you were doing whumpy LU requests? Would you be willing to do a thing with Hyrule and his blood curse? Idk how angsty you wanna go XD anyways thanks and hiiiiiiiii

Heyyyy! I know this is veeeery late but i still hope ya like it!

Thank you for your request @hotcheetohatredwastaken 💙

CW! Blood, head owchie

[noisyghost]

i wish you'd take better care of yourself

[404-art-found]

11 PM trek to ship

[afterartist]

Just a small crappy Caz doodle I did as a sketch warm up

I’ve played/watched play throughs of this game so many times and the ending still gets me misty eyed

Still Wakes the Deep is 100% in my favourite games list

[spectrecowboy]

Hot Summer(s) 🥵🥵☀️☀️🏖️🌡️

alt version + silly margin scogean doodles under the cut

I had so much fun with this lol I know his proportions are. goofy at best also the jean and logan thing is sitting on a hidden layer on the original so I cleaned it up and added it as a little tidbit here. I SWEAR THAT DAMN BASKETBALL OUTFIT HAS ME IN IT'S GRIPS OKAY. also I'm a transmasc scott enjoyer okay. fuck me for projecting idk

[lemm-moxx]

goofy poster type drawing

@karineverse @kredena-dark (thanks for the ideas nerds)

(plus a bonus sketch )

(Horrortale created by sourapplestudios)

[lemissingmask]

[ID: Series of manga style sketches with only blood, eyes and coloured bands on Kotetsu and Barnaby’s under suits in colour. Most of the sketches are on a darker grey background, showing Barnaby being punched with brass knuckles, being hit over the back of the head with a handgun, lying unconscious on the floor with blood coming from his temple, gritting his teeth and glaring with blood on his temple, and in his hero suit with the left eye area broken away, and showing one of Kotetsu in his mask looking concerned. The final image is Barnaby and Kotetsu in their undersuits, Barnaby with his glasses still off and both fresh and dried blood on his face in a path from his left temple. Kotetsu has one hand on Barnaby’s arm, the other holding his chin gently, and he’s looking into his eyes with concern, while Barnaby is fairly ‘rabbit in headlights’ shocked at him. End ID] -

Whumptober Day 18: Concussion

In one of the manga, Barnaby gets punched with brass knuckles then pistol whipped, and then goes on rescue mission, followed by more hero work, and I headcanon he has a concussion for pretty much the whole thing, which Kotetsu gets worried about when they have time to chill

The sketches on the darker grey are all based directly on bits from the manga, and one in the corner is original pose intended to be some point after where that story ends.

[afewproblems]

Season Two Halloween AU Part Seven

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...

As always, thank you thank you to the lovely Jess @strangersteddierthings for being my cheerleader!

[CW: Discussions of injuries, vomiting]

***

Eddie grips the steering wheel tightly in his hands, while his eyes flick from the rearview mirror and back to the road over and over again, watching for movement, for some sign of wakefulness in Steve.

Dustin had managed to find bandages and peroxide earlier in the Byers washroom to help clean up Steve's face before they left, while Eddie delicately picked the shards of ceramic out of Steve's hair.

The impact had broken the skin and would definitely require stitches, but there were no pieces left in the wound.

The biggest worry for Eddie, with Steve now cleaned and bandaged, was that Steve had already been smacked around the day before by Hargrove. He can't even imagine what two blows to the head in two days has actually done, and there wouldn't be any way of knowing until Steve wakes.

And that is where the argument had started.

***

"We can't just leave, we have to do something we have to give them time!" Mike insists while Eddie gathers the soiled towels covered in blood and peroxide.

Eddie scoffs and whirls around on Mike.

"Are you joking? Your babysitter just got obliterated by an ashtray, we're going to the hospital".

Dustin reaches out for Eddies shoulder, shaking it with urgency, "Steve would have--"

"No, he told you guys that we were not getting involved, we're on the bench".

"You can't keep all of us here," Max tries this time, she crosses her arms in front of her and scowls at Eddie, "if we all go, we'll all be safe".

Eddie barks out a nearly hysterical laugh at the suggestion, these fucking kids.

He looks down at Steve and tries to imagine what he would do in this scenario. Hopper, Joyce, Nancy, and Jonathan are gone; Steve is the only other expert left in this situation, the only other voice of reason in the house.

With his eyes closed and the blood now gone, Steve looks as though he could be sleeping.

"Shit. Shit," Eddie brings his hands up into his hair and tries to slow down the panic coursing through him. It's too much, too many people to worry about even without the literal destruction of their town hanging over their heads.

He looks at Steve again.

"Okay, but if we do this, you listen to me, no arguments, none of that shit you give Steve," Eddie begins counting off his fingers as he speaks, "and most importantly, we go to the hospital, you get forty-five minutes".

***

"Mike, are you still keeping time for how long he's been out?" Eddie asks as he looks at the kids through the rearview.

Though he hadn't thought about it when he bought the van off of Reefer Rick --a deal he's still not sure who got the better end of, based on the lightness of Eddie's wallet for weeks afterwards, Eddie is pretty grateful now for the number of seats and the long bench in the back.

Steve's Beemer wouldn't have been able to fit all of them and as much as Max tried to justify stealing her brothers car, neither would the Camero.

Mike mutters something under his breath and Dustin elbows him in the ribs, hard by the sound Mike makes and the glare he shoots Dustin in response.

"I got it," Max says tiredly, she holds up her watch before letting her hand drop into her lap.

She perks up slightly and leans forward to grip the back of the drivers seat, "you know, if you want to sit back here, I can--"

"Nope, nope," Eddie punctuates the words by slapping the steering wheel, "your job is to watch him, and navigate".

"I'm navigating," Lucas insists from the passenger seat beside Eddie. He has the map from earlier spread out over his legs and a finger tracing the red marker lines they had made earlier that night, "you're going to keep going straight and then it's a left on Mount Sinai by the way".

Eddie nods and opens his mouth to ask about how long until the turn when a groan floats up from the back.

Eddie nearly slams on the brakes in surprise, instead jerking the wheel, sending the van into a harsh swerve over the empty road. The kids all yell over one another but Dustin's voice carries the loudest.

"You're jostling him, Jesus Eddie!"

Eddie winces as he manages to straighten the vehicle's course once more, "shit, shit sorry, just, is he awake?"

"Not really," Dustin says, the sound of rustling fabric and another groan punctuating the silent car.

Eddie's resolve finally snaps.

He turns to Lucas, "you said it's just straight and then one more turn right?" Eddie asks as he lets the car drift to the side of the road before throwing it into park.

"Yeah, why?" Lucas says slowly, his face scrunched into a confused frown, Max perks up once again from the middle row in Eddie's periphery.

Eddie turns to face Max's wide grin and rolls his eyes, "yeah, yeah, get up here," he grumbles, popping open the driver's side door.

"Seatbelt or no deal, keep it under sixty, and slow down on the turn".

Max nods rapidly and bites her lip, nearly vibrating with excitement as she scrambles over the middle console to take Eddie's place, "you got it!"

"Why does she get to drive?" Mike growls under his breath but it still carries through the open drivers side door. Steve makes another noise and Eddie has to tamp down a scream of frustration at the sound.

He makes his way to the back passenger door, sliding it open to meet Mike's glare, "my van, my rules Wheeler, move up, Dustin you're keeping the time now".

Dustin nods and leans towards the front, lifting his watch as he asks Max quietly about how long Steve has been out.

Eddie settles in the far back next to Steve, ignoring the guilt that settles heavily in his stomach. If only he had locked the door, if he had been able to hold his own with Billy, this never would have happened. Eddie swallows the lump that begins to form in his throat and pours his focus into Steve, that's who needs him now.

Eddie's never seen someone with a head injury before, hell, he's never seen anyone get their ass beaten like Steve just did and Wayne's lessons in first aid never went past burns or cuts, maybe splinting a break.

Eddie was out of his depth with this.

Steve's unfocused gaze lands on him as he tilts his head slightly. He makes a small noise of recognition and lifts his left hand up to brush softly against Eddie's face.

"Nance?" Steve slurs out, blinking a few times, and fuck, if that doesn't sting.

Eddie can't quite hide his wince and breathes out sharply through his nose, "Nope, sorry, you're stuck with me".

Steve blinks again, this time his eyes narrow slightly as he reaches out again, but Eddie manages to catch his hand this time and gently lowers it back down. He allows himself one indulgence though, and entwines his fingers through Steve's own.

Just this once.

"Ed?" Steve says this time and Eddie can't help the grin that slowly pulls at his lips, thank God.

"Yeah man," Eddie whispers, he clears his throat in an attempt to move the lump that appears once more. Steve's pupils are different sizes but that doesn't seem to stop him from realizing they are no longer in the Byers home.

"Why--we're moving?"

"I was out numbered," Eddie says darkly, sending a glare to Dustin who flips him the bird over his shoulder. He's looking at Lucas's map from the seat behind him.

Steve groans again and Eddie watches as all the colour drains from his cheeks and lips. By the time Eddie realizes what is happening, Steve is already leaning his head over the floor and vomiting all over Eddie's shoes.

"Oh shit Steve, okay, okay, let it out," Eddie helps him sit up slightly and manages to move his feet for the next round, nose wrinkling at the smell of bile. He lets go of Steve's hand and instead settles for letting one hand brace his shoulder while the other sweeps into his hair, pulling the slightly longer sections away from his face.

Eddie tries to focus on keeping Steve steady rather than how soft his hair is.

Mike sucks his teeth in disgust as Dustin swears from the middle seat and covers his mouth, "did he just puke?"

Eddie wants to throttle them both.

Steve pulls him from his violent thoughts though as he coughs and gags again, breathing out a heavy whine as he catches his breath.

He mumbles something so quiet that Eddie almost wonders for a moment if he spoke at all, but then Steve taps his hand weakly against Eddie's hand on his shoulder.

"Pull over," he whispers in a much clearer voice this time and Eddie looks up towards the front of the car, Max is in the middle of turning, the last one if Lucas was to be believed.

"Steve, we can't," Eddie tries, hating the way that Steve deflates, it's almost like when Eddie found him after Tina's party.

"I sorry sweetheart, I promise, hospital after this," Eddie says quietly.

He freezes at the realization of what he just said.

Shit.

It's as though his heart has stopped in his chest and his ribs are crushing inwards, as though he's about to collapse like some dying star.

Eddie looks around the interior of the van, hoping no one else heard him only to catch Dustin staring him down with an intense but curious look in his eyes, his brow furrowed as though Eddie is a puzzle and the last piece has gone missing.

Dustin says nothing though, and turns back to the front where Mike, Lucas, and Max are talking animatedly.

Steve's head flops backwards onto Eddie's chest, pulling his focus from the kids. Steve is looking up at him and from his close Eddie can count the number of eyelashes, the number of freckles dusting his nose, the flecks of green in his blown eyes.

Even with his bruised face and the faint traces of bile on his breath, Steve is beautiful.

Eddie thinks of how Steve protected them all again and again, how he offered advice to Dustin -even if it wasn't the best, how he had insisted that Eddie wasn't the reason Steve had been scared that night, not wanting him to feel like yet another person was afraid of Eddie.

He thinks of all the ways that Steve has shown himself over the last few days and feels the last few strands holding up the image of King-Steve Harrington, finally fall away.

He's never let himself to stare like this, unashamedly at another man, it had always been too dangerous --especially in Hawkins.

Perhaps he can allow himself this other indulgence then, just for now.

Unbidden, the words Steve said earlier echo faintly for Eddie as they sit in the back of his beat up old van while the kids start arguing over the one painters mask they found in the shed earlier.

'People will come in and out of your life all the time, and the ones that are meant to be there will stay, and if they go, then it wasn't meant to be.

I think I need more people in my life like that'.

He swallows heavily as Steve's eyes close and he sinks even further into Eddie, his soft hair tickles against Eddie's neck as he burrows closer.

Eddie lifts his gaze to the roof of the van. He doesn't believe in God, no, hearing his uncle's stories of 'Nam, his mother dying, and Al kicking him to the curb were enough to dissuade Eddie of any real notion of a higher power existing.

But it doesn't stop him from sending a thought out into the universe.

If we make it out of this, Eddie thinks, I promise to listen this time.

Part Eight Now Up

Tag List:

@eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @airconditioning123 @steveshairspray @hellfireone @sunswathe @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson @queenie-ofthe-void @rainbowsaw @sp0o0kylights @littlebluejane @hi-im-eff @phantypurple @just-ladyme @thoroughlycollected @justrandomfandomstm @swimmingbirdrunningrock @finntheehumaneater @dynamic-powerm@nightmareglitter @genderless-spoon @zaddipax @thebiblesays @amerikanskaya-krassavitsa @pyrohonk @emly03 @geekymagicalpotato @sidebarre @eddielives1986 @lemon-astra @cipounette @discreetapple @starlitlakes @saphhicwitchbitch @marvel-ous-m @honorarybrit81 @lingeringmirth

and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @henderdads @stevesbipanic @spooky-brakers @flowercrowngods (welcome back Dio!)

[whump-in-the-closet]

Hi! I know you’ve written stuff like this before and I absolutely adore it so I have to request some more sidekick whump? Either hero’s or villain’s sidekick, doesn’t matter!

Have a nice day!!

Sure! Went with hero’s sidekick here because of ✨vibes✨

Villain stood over the blindfolded Sidekick, tied to the chair with hands twisted behind them. Their chest rose and fell unevenly, breath freezing in the air.

They were terrified.

Good.

Villain crouched down to eye level with Hero’s Sidekick. “Rise and shine.”

Sidekick jerked back in the chair, straining against the restraints. “Fuck you—” their voice was raw, spent from screaming for help that would not come.

“Ah ah ah, language,” said Villain. “I would have thought Hero taught you better.”

An unintelligible snarl.

Villain leaned close, yanking off the blindfold. They smiled without showing any teeth. “Now for the first order of business.” With a quick, rough gesture, they pulled off Sidekick’s mask.

“Hey!” Sidekick blinked frantically, trying to adjust their eyes to the cold light. Their breathing was shallow. Panicked. “Hero—” they started to say, then broke off abruptly.

Underneath the mask was a cloud of dark hair and tired eyes. No trademark scar. No dye or piercings. Unsettlingly average. Ordinary.

Villain rocked back on their heels. “Hero what? You think he’ll come and save you still? Or were you going to say, Hero’s gonna kill me?” They laughed. “I’m far ahead of him in that.”

Sidekick looked down. Away. Anywhere that wasn’t Villain.

Villain stood and started inspecting the tools laid out on the table. “You do understand this is business, right?” They lifted up a long, curving knife. “It’s nothing personal.”

Wiping the knife off on the hem of their shirt, they spun back on Sidekick. “For purely business matters, you’ll have to give me your name.”

Sidekick’s lips tightened. No. But their eyes were on the flashing steel.

They shrank back into the chair as Villain circled behind them. “Fine. Be difficult,” they whispered, uncomfortably close to Sidekick’s face.

Villain slammed Sidekick’s head into the table.

Stars. Brilliant-white-pain stars.

Villain’s grip relented long enough for Sidekick to register the pain. And then slammed their head into the wood a second time.

Crack.

“Your name?” said Villain.

“You…you should know. Your mom gave it to me—” Sidekick’s biting response twisted into a cry when Villain yanked their head back until their neck threatened to snap.

When Villain drove Sidekick’s head into the wood this time, Sidekick’s vision went black.

Blood stained the tabletop.

Villain shoved the tip of their blade towards Sidekick’s face.

Hovering there.

Sidekick saw double. Everything was ringing.

“Alright then, smartass, what’s Hero’s name? Tell me, and you’ll go home without any scars,” whispered Villain. “Well, minimal scars.”

Sidekick drew back, shuddering. Their eyes burned with unshed tears. “I—” Their voice cracked. “I can’t.”

Villain shrugged and traced the tip of Sidekick’s ear with the blade. At the touch of the cold steel, Sidekick bit back a sob. They did not beg, but they wanted too. Desperately.

“Your loss, really,” said Villain. “I can do this all day.”

The steel cut down, and something sticky and wet dripped down Sidekick’s ear and the side of their throat.

“Can you?”

[oleander-nin]

Slipped(Yandere! Rise Leo x Reader)

A/N, not important: Hey, I'm so sorry I've been taking such a long time to get fics out. I know it sucks, and I know I suck, but I'm going to try to speed it up once May 8th passes. I have a bunch of tests coming up, so I'm going to be posting maybe once more this week to hold you guys over. Once again, I'm so sorry. Hopefully I can go back to once a week once my life calms down again. Also! I've never had a concussion, so went of memories of a kid getting a concussion when I was in 2nd grade and the Mayo Clinic information. Please tell me if something's inaccurate! Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Summary: You try to escape, but slip up at the last moment.

Words: 1134

Tw: Kidnapping, concussion, slipping off a ladder(mentioned), Leo being a creep, Leo being Yandere, MC's chained to the wall

‘Tap, tap tap’

My bleary eyes blinked open, a deep fog settling over my brain and seeping into my chest. I could hear something tapping, almost like a countdown to my metaphorical doom. The blurriness around my vision starts to fade, as do the bright white spots speckles around the room. I look around, trying to figure out where the tapping is coming from. A grinning figure sits in front of me, his blurry fingers drilling against the small bedside table next to him. His colored skin and tan plastron paired with the shock his blue mask hinted towards his identity.

Leo.

I let out a groan, my head feeling as if it had a vice squeezing against my brain. Leo’s slightly blurry figure smiles down at me, seemingly completely calm despite the rage burning behind his eyes. I tried to escape. Again. If one thing was for certain, Leo was not going to be pleased. I shifted on the bed, the quiet rattling of the chains echoing around the small room seemed deafening, my feeling as if it would split open at any moment. I tug lightly at the restraints, wincing as the shackles rub against my wrist harshly. With my hands bound behind my back by the chains, I try to relax my shoulders, wanting to ease the dull throbbing in my arms and lower back. I looked around the room lazily, trying to focus on what was going on. I jump a bit when I hear two loud snaps in front of me, Leo having moved from his seat to snap his fingers in front of my eyes. I blink up at him, fear settling in my chest and binding with the fog.

“There you are. Can you hear me?” I watch as Leo’s mouth moves, but the words take a moment to process in my head. Leo’s sweet smile holds an anger I recognized well, and I didn’t like the predatory gleam in his eyes. I shifted on the bed, trying to formulate the words in my mouth to answer Leo, but my tongue felt heavy. My mouth gaped at him a few times before I could get out my words. 

“Your voice is fuzzy.” I say, trying to keep my eyes open. I was proud I could get out the words despite my pounding headache, but a win was a win. Leo looks at me, a small frown on his face. His lips move again, but his voice is way too muddled for me to understand. I watch as Leo sighs before standing up, walking towards me as he mutters something under his breath. I try to scooch back, the cold tin of the subway car wall being pressed against my back. I whimper as he leans down, his hand stopping on the top of my head. 

“Can you look at me?” He asks, his voice softer than earlier. My eyes drift towards his own, but I can barely focus on his face. I furrowed my brows as Leo went in and out of focus. Leo’s hand moves to his phone and his other holds up my face by my chin. I tried to pull back, but his grip was firm. Not painful, but firm. I wince as Leo turns on his phone's flashlight and shines it in my eyes, his face set in concentration. After a few seconds of the torture and my headache worsening with a vengeance, Leo brings his phone back down, rubbing my cheek softly with his thumb.

“You’re so stupid, you know that?” His voice is soft and gentle despite the harsh words, having obviously figured out my headache and not wanting to make it worse. Leo’s eyes scan my face as he sighs, his hand moving to the back of my head and lightly tapping. I feel a sharp pain as my headache worsens from the small touch. I move my head forward, trying to escape his hands, but his hand drifts from the back of my head to the base of the back of my neck. He holds my head firm, not letting me move an inch to look away. “Do you remember what happened?”

I try to think back. I knew I tried to escape, and now I was here, so I assumed the attempt was unsuccessful. It’d be really weird if I was still here after I escaped successfully. But I couldn’t remember what happened, nothing about the actual attempt. I remembered the beginning, when I initially bolted after Leo left the subway cart he called his room to go help one of his brothers with something. He forgot to lock it, so I took my chance. But now I was back in his room, chained to the wall with my wrists behind my back. I couldn’t remember a thing. “Nuh-uh.”

Leo rolls his eyes, a fond twinkle in them as he sits on the bed next to me, pulling me close to him. He forces me to lie on him, my head on his shoulder as my legs drape over his own. “You tried to escape again, love.”

His voice was breathy, soft, full of a quiet fury he was trying to contain. I let out a small hum, the throbbing headache preventing me from doing much more. Leo’s jaw tightens slightly, seemingly not pleased with my non-committal answer. The arm around my shoulders pulls me even closer to his body as the hand on my knee gently squeezes. “You have a concussion, by the way, and I didn’t even cause it. It was all you, babe.”

Leo looks down at me with a devilish grin, seemingly pleased about my injury. “Not even ten minutes without me, and you already got hurt. You are just nothing without me, huh.” Leo lets out a huff of air, his chest vibrating against my arm as he laughs. “I still can’t believe you slipped off the ladder to the topside. I really thought you’d get away for a minute there, but you just continue to prove how necessary it is you stay with me. This is for your own good, so stop trying to fight it.”

Leo shifts me off of him, helping me steady so I don’t ragdoll onto the bed. He checked the shackles on my wrists, giving me a soft kiss on the forehead before standing up with a cruel smile. “I’m off to go get some ibuprofen for your headache, then Don and I are going to give you a small brainscan, just to check everything over. Don’t move, I’m being nice by helping you out instead of leaving you to face the natural consequences of your actions.”

And with that, he leaves, the door clicking shut and having only my tears and throbbing skull to comfort me.

[prof-hemp420]

Become unfuzzed

I would.

But first my skull was cracked by a merc.

Then by my kitchen floor and a dragon.

It fuzzes the brain!