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dorkshadows · 1 month ago

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The Writeup

Thanks for the interest! As promised, I've come out of retirement for one (1) day to do this writeup about the intense things going on in the Nezha 2 fandom.

Once more, this is NOT about the people who happened to watch the movie, the people who are just interested in box office stats, the people who really enjoyed the movie, or the people who just really admire Nezha. This will be about the fandom fandom, the truly invested, the elaborate fanons behind certain ships that will make you go "wait what?", the rabid Ao Guang discourse that will also make you go "wait what?," the brainrot (affectionate) in its purest unfiltered form. This is a post about brainrot for those also suffering from brainrot.

This is a collection of patterns mainly from lofter, but also from douyin, weibo, bilibili, and xhs (I'm grouping everyone together because most artists/authors repost to multiple sites or have their content shared on multiple sites, so everyone ends up looking at the same things if they follow the relevant tags on each site). I didn't filter out or blacklist a single tag. I stared directly into the sun to collect this information!

Disclaimer: I genuinely have no idea how to warn for some of the things mentioned here, so just a blanket note of caution- if you click "read more," you are prepared to read about anything and everything. If you are OK with all this, then- let's go! 命由我不由天!

The movie has been out in China in for roughly 3 weeks. In those 3 weeks, all of this has happened in the deepest layers of fandom.

General patterns:

I can't speak for other site stats, but at least on Lofter, Nezha/Ao Bing as a ship is #1 and #2 trending (as Oubing and Bingzha respectively) out of all fandoms and topics on Lofter. But curiously, Ao Guang (#8 trending) and Shen Gongbao (#9 trending) are more popular as individual characters than Nezha and Ao Bing. The latter is noteworthy because Shen Gong Gong's tag was pretty barren circa 2019.

Some Oubing fans have decided that they don't have enough oubing content so they've started shipping Oubing.... from the 1979 movie. This is also in the top 10 trending. Their inspiration comes from this advert.

Ao Guang vocally disapproves of his son dating Nezha, but he can't do anything about it. The real victim here!

Any pairing you can think of exists. Any pairing.

Character/Reader fics exist for everyone in the main cast except Wuliang Shenweng and Taiyi Zhenren

There's a vibrant self-shipping community again for everyone except Wuliang and Taiyi

Lots of M-preg

CEO Ao Guang is common in modern AUs

Nezha is usually in his powered up form in Oubing/Bingzha content, but in his gremlin form in content focused on anyone else

Lots of "The characters themselves react to watching the movie!" type of stories

Shiji Niang Niang has been shipped with both Taiyi Zhenren and Shen Gongbao. The latter has spawned a meme. There's a comic I won't repost because I don't know who the original artist is, but it's very powerful. It goes like this:

SGB: "Prejudice is like a mountain in people's hearts-" SNN: "So I exist in everyone's hearts? That's beautiful <3"

"Lady Yin LIVES!" AUs aplenty

Wuliang's nickname is "Evil Peach"

Lots and lots and Lots of Shen Gongbao whump

Ao Guang has been separately interpreted as a daddy dom, a malewife, an old guy TM, a himbo, and a baby girl AND as all of those things all at once

Ao Run and Ao Bing are the only dragons considered to be smart

Shen Gongbao tends to have very low self-worth. This comes from a 2019 Jiaozi interview where he directly says our leopard lacks confidence

Any AU you can think of: modern AUs, mafia AUs, republican era AUs, actor AUs, musician AUs, wuxia AUs, this one AU where the Ao family are American senators for no reason, omegaverse, and so on

Lots of Journey to the West (a lot of Black Myth specific ones especially) and FSYY crossovers

There's a meme about the real Lu Tong using his antlers to attack people in their dreams if they dare make sexual content of him because someone who made "bottom" Lu Tong content claimed they were attacked by him in a dream. Others took this to mean that he only attacks if you make him a bottom. People who interpret him as a "top" claim that they won the lottery and their lives are going great.

Ao Guang and Shen Gongbao are usually on a first name basis. Ao Guang calls Shen Gonbao 公豹兄 (Gongbao Xiong, "Brother Gongbao") and Shen Gongbao calls him "Ao Guang" directly. This is sort-of canon because this is how they address each other in 敖丙传 "The Tale of Ao Bing/Aobing Zhuan". for those who ship it, their ship name is 龙王豹 (longwangbao/ dragon king leopard) *Keep Aobing Zhuan in mind. This will be important towards the wildest part of this writeup.

Now for the elaborate fanon lore behind two specific ships that seemingly came out of nowhere. Everyone knows about oubing, but what about the other popular ships out there? They're absolutely wild, but- HEAR THEM OUT.

DiLong:

This one has its origins from the first movie. 地笼 AKA "Prison Cage/Emperor Dragon." It's a ship based on Tiandi (Emperor of Heaven) x Ao Guang. The Di in "emperor" is pronounced the same as ground "di," which is also the first character that makes up the word "prison." And "long" (dragon) is pronounced the same way as cage (also "long"), hence the ship name.

Some time after Ne Zha (2019) came out, someone pulled out one of Ao Guang's lines and ran with it. It's a quote where he essentially says that even though the dragon clan was loyal to heaven and its emperor, the heavens betrayed and imprisoned them in the sea anyway. This section of fans took this to mean that Tiandi charmed Ao Guang on false pretenses, took advantage of Ao Guang's love for him, and then left him to rot in the eastern sea... after impregnating him with 1-3 kids. And this changed Ao Guang from an innocent beauty into a resentful dragon desperate for vengeance.

Things of note about dilong:

Tiandi 天帝 is NOT the Jade Emperor (Yu Di). Their mythos overlap, but the Emperor of Heaven is considered the supreme ruler of Everything in the universe while the Jade Emperor rules over the three realms. So Tiandi ranks higher than the Jade Emperor. (But he's also a more obscure figure in popular worship if we get technical)

At the time, Ao Guang didn't actually have a name in 2019 canon. So the fans referred to him as 敖广 (that's what the eastern dragon king has always been called, but Nezha 2 reimagines him with a different name that's pronounced similarly: 敖光).

Tiandi's given name, or rather, the name that the fans gave him, is Hao Tian 昊天, which is the actual name of one of the mythological Tiandi's many variations

Tiandi does not appear in either Nezha movie. His entire character (appearance, personality, etc.) is purely built on headcanons. He is usually written as a playboy, a heartless manipulative bastard, a deadbeat dad, an ungrateful power greedy monster, and so on. But he is always written and drawn as #Hot.

Ao Guang gave birth to Ao Bing in the Dilong universe.

As you can tell, this is a very angsty ship that usually ends in anger and suffering, but there are plenty of fix-its and happy ending versions out there too, mostly about Tiandi feeling bad for being such a shitty bastard in the past and trying to win Ao Guang back

Regardless of how you feel about Dilong after reading all this, if you are in any way fond of Ao Guang's design in Nezha 2, you owe your life and soul to Dilong shippers because Jiaozi's original idea for Ao Guang was making him a bearded geezer. The Nezha team saw how popular the humansona for Ao Guang was (from dilong fanart) and they incorporated it into canon.

#Dilong had a resurgence in popularity thanks to Nezha 2 (it's the no.6 trending topic on weibo as of right now). But you'll notice that pre-2025 Dilong may feel ooc now because Ao Guang is, for lack of better word, interpreted more as a softspoken twink than the beautiful himbo he is now.

*Keep Dilong in mind as well. It is the source of much insanity below.

LuBao:

Next, in a similar vein to Dilong, another wild ship has risen over the horizon! In terms of quantity, dilong is more popular, but in terms of engagement, this is doing bigger numbers nowadays. I'm talking likes in the ten-thousands range. That ship is.... Lu Tong x Shen Gongbao. AKA 鹿豹 (LuBao, DeerLeopard)

You might be thinking "HUH!? Why!?" My answer for you is that it's all Taiyi's fault. Both inside and outside the movies, Taiyi consistently screws Shen Gongbao over. Life imitates art! This section is a little longer than the dilong section because there is a Lot going on here. I'll admit that one of the most profoundly beautiful and well-written stories I have ever read is a lubao fic on lofter, I understand now

Just as the fans did for dilong once upon a time, this section of fans pulled a blink-and-you-miss-it quote from Nezha 2, where Taiyi tells Nezha that the previous captain of the demon hunting team was Shen Gongbao (after they meet the current captain, Lu Tong).

From there, the lore just got deeper. When Lu Tong greets Taiyi, he calls him 师伯 (Shi Bo, senior martial uncle). But you only call a male relative 伯 in Chinese when that person is your father's older brother. Wuliang is Taiyi's elder (martial) brother (Shi Xiong, as I'm sure you all know), so Lu Tong's address is incorrect. Taiyi knows this as well, so he corrects Lu Tong and says "It should be 师叔" (Shi Shu, younger martial uncle). Lu Tong continues calling him Shi Bo anyway. The fans took it to mean one of two things:

Lu Tong did it on purpose because he only acknowledges one (1) person as his Shi Shu and that's Shen Gongbao

Lu Tong is officially Wuliang's disciple, but he believes himself to truly be Shen Gongbao's disciple and since Taiyi is Shen Gongbao's elder martial brother, he'll call him Shi Bo

Then it got even more elaborate. The fans surmised that since the celestials are so condescending towards demons, Lu Tong and He Tong were ostracized and bullied when they first arrived at Yuxu Gong. And the only person who was nicer to them/protected them/stuck up for them was Shen Gongbao since they're the only demons there. This is why you'll sometimes see fanart of the three of them together in the "Yuxu Gong days."

When Shen Gongbao immediately realized Shen Xiaobao's wound came from Lu Tong's arrow, the fans decided this meant that he was familiar enough with Lu Tong to know his fighting style. When paired with the above headcanon, this directly turns into "Shen Gongbao himself taught Lu Tong archery."

Whenever Ao Bing possessed Nezha, fans noticed that there was always a closeup of Lu Tong's reaction. They decided this meant that Lu Tong recognized Ao Bing through recognizing his fighting style, taught to him by Shen Gongbao.

The fans also think Lu Tong did not have to go off that hard on Shen Xiaobao and Shen Zhengdao. There's following your boss's orders and there's following those orders in the most hyperviolent over the top way possible. Their conclusion is that Lu Tong knew that was Shen Gongbao's family and did it on purpose. Because when Shen Gongbao left Yuxu Gong without telling him, Lu Tong took that personally. And when he took Ao Bing on as a disciple, Lu Tong took that more Personally. So Lu Tong has decided to do his best to kill everyone Shen Gongbao ever cared about until he has nobody left but Lu Tong. Audiences complained that Lu Tong lacked a personality in the movie- the fandom has assigned him a personality and that personality is "sadistic freak obsessed with his Shi Shu."

Things of note about LuBao:

dilong was requited at some point in time, but lubao is an aggressively one-sided ship where Shen Gongbao only requits 1% of the time either because it's a complete AU, none of the movie's events happened, or he has amnesia (inflicted on him by Lu Tong)

A common trope revolves around Lu Tong hoping and hoping for Shen Gongbao to take him on as a disciple, which never happens, planting the first seeds of disappointment and HATE

Lu Tong really fucking hates Ao Bing, whom he considers to be the antagonist of his life because Ao Bing STOLE all of Shen Gongbao's love that rightfully should have been Lu Tong's. He also really hates Ao Guang too, again for stealing HIS shishu. actually, he hates Taiyi sometimes too. He hates anyone Shen Gongbao ever talked to.

He Tong is the only person who knows Lu Tong is this way.

Sometimes Lu Tong meets Shen Gongbao as a primitive deer, a fully adult celestial-in-training, or a literal "deer boy." During his time as captain, Shen Gongbao usually takes Lu Tong under his wing at some point and/or is the person who spares Lu Tong from being slaughtered by the rest of the team or convinces the others not to kill him. OR, even wilder, Shen Gongbao interacts with Lu Tong for 5 minutes 200 years ago and that's enough to cause Lu Tong to go on this spiral. Whichever the case, Lu Tong imprints on Shen Gongbao.

90% of LuBao content includes Lu Tong taking his revenge on Shen Gongbao after Wuliang imprisons him. This includes all manner of graphic torture.

Lu Tong wants Shen Gongbao to hate him because he believes Shen Gongbao left him in the past due to indifference towards him. "Hate lasts longer than love."

Shen Gongbao: *exists* Lu Tong: I'll kill your family. I'll kill your disciple. I'll kill your disciple's father and your disciple's best friend. And Taiyi Zhenren too. I'll kill everyone who ever interacted with you. Then I'll break you and break you some more until you're nothing but bones and dust. I hate that you made me love you and that you left me. What do the dragons have that I lack? Are my antlers lesser than their horns? We both have blood on our hands and yet you think yourself nobler than I. You are inherently kinder than me and I hate that the most about you. My dearest revenge is dragging you down to my level, to make you hate me as much as I hate you. If I can't have your love, I will have your hate and your pain and your tears- Ao Bing & Ao Guang: 有病!??????? WTF.

恨明月高悬独不照我 is a phrase now permanently associated with this ship. It translates to "I hate that the moon in the sky shines for all but me." Lu Tong hates that shishu shares affection with everyone except him.

This is such a prevalent characterization of Lu Tong at this point that "obsessed with Shen Gongbao" is now his defining trait even in content where neither he or Shen Gongbao are main characters

If its an Ao Guang/Shen Gongbao fic, Lu Tong sometimes shows up as SGB's abusive ex, abusive stalker, or a guy that Ao Guang finds extremely creepy and annoying

If you're still here, this next and final section puts everything else to shame!

The Ao Guang Discourse

There is a lot of drama surrounding Ao Guang now, not because of anything he did as a character, but because of who's he's shipped with. But there's actually only one side of the fandom instigating all the arguments.

Now, remember Aobing Zhuan? That's a spinoff comic focused on Aobing's childhood that came out circa 2021(?). It goes into depth about his early days with Shen Gongbao, his brothers, and even his mother, 应龙, Yinglong. (Yinglong is a real mythological creature, a powerful dragon with a place in old mythos and folklore as well, but that's not entirely relevant here lol). Yinglong is older than Ao Guang, is beautiful, strong, etc. She dies in the spinoff.

A significant number of fangirls latched onto Ao Guang (as presented in Aobing Zhuan), and projected onto Yinglong, the mother of his children. After Nezha 2 released, Ao Guang understandably gained even more fangirls. Most of them became GuangYing shippers.

Now, it's a golden rule in CN fandoms to tag your content so others can avoid. GuangYing shippers do not care about this. They go onto any and all m/m content with Ao Guang to insult the authors and argue that their disgusting ways are disrespectful to canon, disrespectful to Ao Guang, and disrespectful to women everywhere. It doesn't matter that Yinglong is not in the movies and also dead--Ao Guang is not allowed to move on from her ever, and also he is STRAIGHT. Is there not enough gay content out there?? Why can't the heterosexuals have this one man to themselves?? The injustice!

Edit to add: m/f is also unsafe from the wrath of guangyin shippers. They also attack Ao Guang self-shippers for daring to be sluts coming in between him and his true love, Yinglong.

They especially hate dilong and have been harassing all dilong content for the past month. Dilong is their main target, but it's not their only target- you can also find them under Ao Guang/Shen Gongbao content claiming that "they're just besties" and "Ao Guang just sees Shen Gongbao as a pet" asdfasdf

Dilong shippers retort by saying all Guangying shippers do is attack and harass others instead of making their own content, which is why their content is so lacking and pitful. They also called into question the canonicity of Aobing Zhuan. Jiaozi supervised it, but he's not the actual author. They started bashing Aobing Zhuan as focusing too little on Aobing, making Aobing look bad to make his brothers look good, accusing the author of being a Xiao Zhan stan in the wake of the ao3 ban, creating events that directly contradicted with canon, crediting things that Ao Guang or Shen Gongbao did for Aobing as things that Yinglong did, the official Nezha team is embarrassed of the direction Aobing Zhuan went in and doesn't acknowledge it anymore, Yinglong is the author's self insert, etc. And back and forth-

And then, 匪我思存 (Fei Wo Si Cun), acclaimed web novelist, author of multiple novels, including 东宫 (Goodbye My Princess 2019) and 9 more that were turned into TV shows.... published a Dilong fanfic on main (weibo). It referred to Ao Guang as 敖广 and involved M-preg, of him giving birth to Ao Bing, who is also Tiandi's child here. Yinglong and Tiandi's wife are both in the story too- they are a lesbian couple who double as beards for their husbands.

The Ao Guang fangirls, I mean, Guangying shippers LOST IT. They came at Fei Wo Si Cun with full throttle rage. Countless socmed posts about what a horrible disgusting disgraceful thing this author did! How dare she use her wide platform to do this instead of putting it somewhere where nobody can see!? Some have even accused this one fic of destroying Nezha 2's image on the global stage. This one story about this one ship has DESTROYED the reputation of ALL OF CHINA. This is TREASON. Now when normies see Ao Guang and Ao Bing, all they will think about is M-preg.

Not only that, Fei Wo Si Cun had the audacity to do something as misogynistic as turning Yinglong into a lesbian beard! It is a SIN to break up a "canon" pairing and a sin to change the character's sexualities into anything except heterosexuality!

Correction: the lesbian couple part is hearsay and probably came from FWSC saying (that in her fic’s setting) Yinglong and Tiandi’s wife married their husbands because they can’t be with the people they love for “reasons”

The Yinglong crowd is still going at it as I write this. FWSC has not deleted or apologized for this fic. China's reputation has, last I checked, not been DESTROYED by this one story about an animated dragon man from a kid's movie, and dilong shippers are still suffering.

And that's a wrap for now. I may or may not update this if something even wilder happens. I want to say no, this is the end of the ride, but we are only 1 month in. There's plenty of time for more to crop up!

UPDATE: This post is already out of date LMAO! For those interested in updates on everything mentioned above, here's the follow-up: Writeup Part 2.

#nezha #nezha 2025 #nezha 2 #哪吒之魔童闹海 #哪吒2 #哪吒 #adsadf I'm not a fan of overtagging #this is just for the 20 people who showed interest- hope this makes it easier for you guys to find~#and now I return to cultivating act 3 of rain in retirement #farewell and take care!#on lofter I have contributed to One (1) of the things mentioned above but I'm not saying which one #those who know me well will have to take a guess

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sweetestberryofthebunch · 2 months ago

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Scars On My Mind (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Ever heard of the Daughters of Liberty? When Agatha appears at your doorstep covered in blood with a knitting needle peeking out of her elbow, you certainly wish you hadn’t. Here’s how it went.

Content/Warnings: WitchKiller!Agatha, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Injury, So Much Blood, Open Wound, Angst, Mild Mentions of NSFW Content, no beta we die like the Daughters of Liberty

This fic is a gift for @marril96 who made a gifset for me in return! Ily, let's swap again! It was so so so much fun to dive a little deeper into Agatha’s Witch Killer days with this, and make her a little vulnerable for once!

The rain started on Thursday night and hadn’t stopped since. A continuous drumming against your window, the world outside tainted a muddy grey. It was the earliest hours of Saturday now, Friday had passed silently without you noticing, the continuous waterfalls of raindrops on the windows not letting up to let the days pass either. The vinyl player kept playing as Friday had slipped into Saturday too, the kettle kept simmering as you prepared a boiling cup of Agatha‘s favourite tea blend. Even as the days drifted away, the world kept going. Boiling hot water turned into lukewarm turned into cold, the vinyl finished playing, spinning to a halt. The rain kept thrumming.

You sighed, leaning back on the couch, eyes fluttering shut. Agatha was late, like, even later than usually. And you were tired, sleep tugging at your bones with gradually more and more urgency.

But it was useless to go to bed, no matter how often she insisted you shan’t wait for her. You wouldn’t find much sleep anyway. Not on nights like this. When Agatha was out with other witches, when she set out to … feed? Kill? Siphon?

Well, it was hard to find any rest while she was out there like that.

She may have laughed when you’d admitted to that, throwing her leather jacket over her shoulders before pulling you into a quick kiss by your neck.

„There’s nothing to worry about, darling. I do this all the time.“

But still, as the front door to your little nyc apartment swung open and she sauntered out, chirping a „See you tonight, honey!“, over her shoulder at you, the pit in your stomach remained. The ghost of her palm on the back of your neck remained.

You sighed, taking a sip of the cold tea you’d prepared. If she wasn’t coming home in time, you certainly wouldn’t let the water go to waste.

They’d just raised the prizes for utilities on you. And while Agatha had just laughed and mentioned some inactive bank account she had in Germany that she‘d simply pull from, you couldn’t help but stress about it.

It wasn’t that you didn‘t trust her, so far every time she’d mentioned some savings from one of her many, many lives it had always been true. But just because she was an undying, centuries old witch who didn’t have to concern herself with mundane things like paying bills didn’t mean you could just shake those things off the same.

You had no magick, but you did have your name on a lease. But so far, she’d always made it work somehow, whether that be with her old account of when she lived right beside the Berlin Wall ten years ago or by selling a quick spell or curse to some unassuming person desperate enough to pay for one. You weren’t even sure if she actually performed real spells all of the time. Your Agatha was a scam artist through and through, but you wouldn’t have her any other way.

You took another sip of tea, watching the rain pour down the window. Sometimes, you wondered how many more of you there had been. Agatha was good at dodging those questions, but one night, when you wouldn’t let off even after she’d made you come undone multiple times on the couch, she’d handed you a little cardboard box.

„I try not to be traceable and I can’t exactly show you baby pictures, but some stuff just sticks.“

The contents of the box were fragile, some paper so frail you barely wanted to touch it. Little notes, handwritten poems, a few pages torn out of books. A pencil sketch of the bunny that lived in a cage beside your bed, that she always made sure to drape a blanket over before going down on you. An ink sketch of her, without the worry lines on her forehead or the little wrinkles around her eyes. But, as always, with the amulet she never took off her body.

A few photographs. Black and white on flimsy film paper, Agatha in a flapper dress, feather in her hair and a cigarillo between her lips, legs spread as she leaned back on a barstool. Agatha in the same dress, smiling over her shoulder at the camera, a dark skinned woman in a matching dress sitting beside her, raising her champagne flute at the camera.

Jenny Kale, you knew from her stories, the most brilliant potions maker Agatha had ever met. And the most annoying one. They‘d fallen off, you assumed it had something to do with Agatha‘s habit of power grabbing.

But, there was also a Polaroid.

A Polaroid that lay on the coffee table in front of you now.

A Polaroid that had not left your mind since you’d found it.

Agatha with a wild, unkempt perm and uneven bangs, black liner smudged around her eyes, in a black tank top, arm stretched out to take the picture. But, what actually caught your eye was the arm wrapped around her waist, tight enough to bunch up the fabric of her shirt, revealing a thin line of pale skin of her lower stomach. The person hugging her was out of frame, all you could see was an arm, and a shoulder pressed into Agatha‘s, and the way the witch seemed to hold back a laugh. The handwriting under the picture was messy, and the black marker had faded over the years.

For my love A.H. 1982 - We can be heroes forever and ever

And then what you‘d assumed was once a heart, but got smudged by someone touching the ink before it had dried.

It was exactly what you‘d been looking for. Proof that there had been people before you. That you weren’t her first lover in the 350 long years of her life. Of course you weren’t, that’d be foolish to assume!

But still, the find had punched a hole into your stomach that had only hollowed out the more you thought about it.

How many other people had she taken a liking to, how many non magickal people had she moved in with, let them sign leases and contracts for her as she ran off to suck the magic out of the local witch community of wherever she found herself? How long had this been going on? How long until she’d move on?

Sure, you were young now, but other than her, the clock was ticking for you. Would you just wake up one day and find her gone? And would she bother to keep your picture? And, even if all of this was nothing, why would she hide it from you? She‘d told you about Jennifer Kale, but she‘d never ever mentioned living with someone during her time in Berlin, or any era before that.

You bit your bottom lip, hissing when you tasted the metallic tinge of your own blood.

Did you want to be just another picture in her little box of memories? Did she even deem you worth remembering?

It was stupid to think like that, and you knew that, but it was harder not to let the uncertainty consume you.

But, you were smart enough never to ask her about it directly. Your wild, fierce, unapologetic witch. You loved her, you had realised that the moment her eyes met yours for the first time, and you loved everything about the chaos and the magick and the passion that she brought into your life. Maybe that was why the potential answer scared you so much. Better to keep holding onto your belief than to risk knowing you didn’t mean as much to her as she did to you. Better to live in the harmony of what you had built with her.

You wish you‘d never asked her about her prior life, had never opened the paper box. Now that you had the Polaroid in hand, it was impossible to put down.

A sound ripped you from your self deprecating thoughts. A faint scratch, just loud enough that you were sure you hadn’t imagined it. Another one. Like a dog scratching at a locked front door … or a key that kept missing the hole it belonged into, and instead kept hitting the rough wood of your door.

You sat up. „Agatha?“

No answer. Fuck.

You knew Agatha had her enemies, it was impossible to live that long without them. Hell, there was a whole coven formed of the daughters of her prior victims, a piece of information you preferred to not think about too much. After all, you saw what she was capable of, saw her cast runes around the entire apartment to keep out evil spirits, the way she glowed after siphoning, the daily use of telekinesis and the occasional prodding your mind - which she swore was to remind you to keep up the mental wards she‘d taught you, and totally not because she enjoyed the image of her that danced around your thoughts since the day you met.

Wards you made sure you had up and intakt now as you grabbed a candelabra on your way towards the front door - the first weapon you‘d spontaneously found.

Another scratch at the door, then a grunt, and a little thud, like something was falling into the wooden frame.

„Agatha?“, you asked again, louder.

Panting, whoever was on the other side of the door was breathing heavily.

Here goes nothing. You bit down on your lower lip, fingers tightening around the candelabra. Twisting the doorknob, you held your weapon high, ready to strike. The wooden door flew open, you held your breath … only to immediately let it go in a loud shriek.

In front of you was in fact Agatha, however, this was not how you had expected her to return. Her shirt was torn and ripped apart, shreds of fabric barely clinging onto her. if you hadn’t known, you would have never guessed it used to be white fabric, for it was covered in mud and dirt and … a worrying amount of blood. There was so much blood. On her clothes, her face, her head. Like someone had dumped a bucket of red over her head. Agatha herself was shaking, her body leaning against the wooden doorframe, the key she was holding in her right hand quivering with every rattling breath she took. Her left arm … your stomach twisted. Her left arm was completely bare, the sleeve ripped away at the seam, and her skin was covered in dark red crusts of dried and fresh blood. It hung useless at her side, and as she shifted from one foot to her other, you saw a single, long piece of hard plastic sticking right out of her elbow.

Your stomach twisted at the sight, and you instinctively had to reach for the wall, not trusting your knees to support your weight right now.

Agatha’s eyes were open wide, blue piercing at you as she panted, a now dried drop of blood had run right between her eyes and down her nose. She looked insane. You felt insane.

And yet, she had the nerve to cock her brows at you. „The candlestick? Seriously? Do you have any idea how much that thing is worth these days?“

Slowly, you dropped your arm, the makeshift weapon sliding out of your grip and tumbling to the floor.

Agatha winced, like that was what really caused her pain right now.

„Agatha!“, you gasped, swallowing hard.

The witch bit her bottom lip, hard, before heaving her own body closer towards the entryway, pushing for you to let her in.

„I got ambushed“, she exclaimed, even though that didn’t explain anything at all, „This little bunch was smarter than they seemed. In theory at least“, she laughed, but it only made her grit her teeth, „All the spells and curses in the world, and they stab me with a fucking knitting needle!“

You gulped. So that was the thing peeking out of her elbow.

Glassy blue eyes found you, her glare bewildered, almost panicked. „Are you done now? I would love it if we could at least move this out of the hallway, before we wake the neighbors!“

Finally, you snapped back into reality. Agatha was injured, badly, and she was also leaving stains of red on your doorframe and the „Welcome Home“ doormat in the hallway. But those were problems for later.

Right now, you needed to get her to safety. You surged forwards, grabbing her by her uninjured shoulder, pulling her right arm around your neck.

„Lean onto me“, you instructed, kicking the candelabra out of your way as you slowly guided her into the apartment.

She was cold to the touch, too cold for your liking, but she still managed to tut at you anyway. „What would you say if i kicked your hairdryer around like that?“

You let the front door fall shut behind you, other arm wrapping around her waist to support her further.

“I would say Thank You Honey for not letting me bleed out on the doormat! but you can practice that later.“

That made her snort, and you felt her entire body wince in pain.

„Stop being funny“, she hissed, her right hand digging into your shoulder as you slowly guided her towards the couch, step by step, „It hurts.“

You finally reached the plush sofa and carefully sat her down. Agatha‘s body collapsed against the cushions with a groan, her head rolling back.

„Hey!“, you snapped your fingers right in front of her face, „Sit up! Don’t you dare faint on me!“

Her eyes fluttered, and you felt panic rise in your chest. Your palms found her cheeks, cupping her face gently as you pulled her head back up, forcing her to look at you. Blue eyes blinked up at you, pupils dilating when they closed in on your face.

„Agatha“, you said, taking a deep breath more to calm yourself than her, „I‘m gonna go grab the first aid kit, but I need you to stay with me, okay? No fainting. Can you curl your fingers for me?“

Her right hand curled into a weak fist with no issues, while her left hand laid beside her uselessly. You swallowed. „Okay, keep doing that. Clench, and unclench, exactly. I‘ll be back in a second.“

She blinked twice, and a small smile found her blood covered, cracked lips. „You’re worried about me“, she drawled deliriously, healthy hand coming up to poke your side. The touch was a lot weaker than you‘d like. „That’s hot.“

You bit down on your tongue. „You’re unbelievable“, you shook your head, making sure her own head was supported by the cushions behind her before letting go, „Keep clenching your fists!“

To your relief, the first aid kit was right under the sink in the bathroom, fully stocked and ready for you. On your way back out, you grabbed a towel as well.

Agatha was still sitting up when you came back, already digging through the first aid kit as you walked, pulling out bandages, alcohol wipes, and the little bottle of superglue you kept in the kit. You sucked your cheeks in, thumb running over the little tag on it. The next fifteen minutes were going to suck.

Glassy blue eyes watched you as you spread out your new findings on the coffee table. Her breath came in heaves, but at least they were even and her chest didn’t quiver with every gush of air that surged through her lungs anymore.

„How are you feeling?“, you asked, needing her to stay awake, stay with you at any costs.

Luckily, she had it back in her to let out a humourless chuckle. „Like shit. Those bitches betrayed me like I didn‘t teach them everything they knew.“

Even as you cut open the plastic baggy holding a bandaid, you had to give her a long look over your shoulder.

„Betraying the witch that was gonna betray them? How dare they.“

Agatha opened her mouth in protest, but then you sat back up on the couch next to her, the cushions she was resting her injured arm on shifting, and instead a high, pained whimper left her throat. The sound rang through your head and you pressed your lips together, carefully positioning her arm so the needle stuck in it was facing you.

„I‘m sorry“, you took a deep breath, „You‘re not gonna like me for the next few minutes, but I need you to stay still for me, okay?“ Your eyes found hers, and you gave her a firm little nod.

„What?“, Agatha's voice was weak, brows creased in confusion, her eyes barely focusing on you. You gave her a soft smile, hand closing around the knitting needle slow and firm. „Look out the window babe“, you softly hummed and Agatha‘s head rolled to the other side, lashes fluttering.

„Don’t turn around“, you said. But of course, she immediately turned back.

“The window Agatha!“, you sighed exasperated, not waiting for her to listen this time.

„Okay, one, two…“ Before you could say the next number, you gritted your teeth. With one firm tug, the knitting needle slid right out of her open wound.

Agatha screamed, flinching under your firm grip, head thrown back against the couch.

The needle made a wet sound as you pulled it out that made your stomach turn. Thick, red liquid was stuck to the plastic as well as fresh blood immediately pooling out of the wound at her elbow.

You quickly pressed the towel onto it, gripping Agatha’s arm tight so she couldn’t pull away, even as she screamed. The whimpers leaving her throat echoed through your bones, and you had to bite down on your cheek harder.

„I‘m sorry baby“, you pressed out, glancing over at her face. Fresh, salty tears ran down her face, parting the dried crusts of blood on her cheeks. She was biting down on her tongue, hard enough to draw blood, holding back her sobs as best as she could.

„Fuck you“, she sobbed weakly, eyes closed shut and you had to chuckle.

„That’s okay. Let it out.“, you hummed, pressing the towel down onto the wound with one hand. The pale blue fabric was quickly soaking up red, and you had to act fast, worried she was going to lose too much blood.

With your free hand you reached for the superglue, the lid already off, clear, stale liquid at the tip.

„I have to do one more thing that you‘re not gonna like“, you said, keeping your grip on her arm tight as she tried to pull away.

„No! Stop! That’s enough!“, she yelped and it took everything in you to stay firm. The wound needed closing, no matter how much it would hurt.

„Agatha!“, you held her tight, giving her a firm stare that held no room for discussion. When you saw the way her bottom lip was quivering despite her pushed forward chin, your voice softened.

“I‘m trying to help you. Just one more thing and you‘re done, I promise.“

Agatha swallowed hard, leaning towards you.

You let her, gently pressing your forehead to hers.

„That was scary“, she murmured, „They were so smart about it. Didn’t blast me once. Instead…“, her shoulders twitched in an attempt to shrug, the sharp pain causing her to wince.

„Instead you came home with a knitting needle in your arm“, you nodded, craning your neck. Your lips brushed over her forehead, the bittersweet mix of mud and blood on your tongue as you pressed a gentle kiss right over the crease she always pulled when she was in pain, but trying to be brave about it.

„This was terrifying, but you’re being so strong“, you leaned back again, enough to look her in the eyes one more time, „Let me close the wound and then it‘ll be over, I promise.“

And she let you.

As you pulled the towel away to inspect the wound closer, Agatha looked the other way, her right hand coming up to her mouth as you pulled the skin together. As you dropped the clear glue down onto the gash, pulling it closed with one hand and handling the bottle of superglue with the other, she let out another blood curdling scream, muffled only by her teeth digging into her own hand. But, it worked. The moment the liquid began to thicken, the bleeding stopped.

It took all the alcohol wipes of the kit to get her arm cleaned up, working quickly and in silence, knowing well not to talk to Agatha as hot tears ran down her cheeks. You made sure to save a wipe for the bite mark on her right hand too, and then once you were positive all of her injuries were cleaned, you finally reached for the bandaids.

By the time she was all patched up and in clean clothes (you‘d thrown her bloody shirt and all towels it had taken to get the muck off her face into the bathtub, a problem for later), the two of your curled up underneath a blanket, her healthy shoulder squeezed up against yours, the sun was coming up.

Finally, it had stopped raining too.

The two of you had shared a can of microwaved ravioli, and slowly but surely, the color was returning to Agatha‘s cheeks. You wrapped your arm tighter around her, nose nuzzling into the crown of her head. Her hair still smelled of metal and cinder, but that didn’t bother you right now. What mattered was that she was still with you, that her body was warm against yours and her breathing even.

The blanket rustled as she shifted in your hold, right hand coming up to rest over yours.

„Now.“, Agatha took a long breath, thumb running over your knuckles as she held your hands in hers. Finally, she seemed fully back to consciousness.

„Tell me why you‘ve been pondering all night instead of sleeping like I told you to.“

„What?“, your brows furrowed, tilting your head to the side in confusion as you glanced down at her.

Agatha nodded towards the coffee table, blue eyes fixed on a specific object scattered between the leftovers of your once organised and stacked first aid kit. „I doubt you‘re using that as a bookmark.“

Between scissors and a piece of bandage you‘d cut off, there was still the Polaroid you‘d taken from the box of her private possessions. Now, there was a single drop of blood on it, right above the black marker writing.

„Oh my god!“, you quickly reached for it, „I‘m so sorry, I‘ll clean that off!“

Before your hand could reach the photo, Agatha‘s unharmed arm lunged forward, hand closing around your wrist. Despite how pale she still looked, she pulled you back to her with no trouble, wrapping the blanket around you two tighter. Injury or not, there was still magick power running through her veins.

„Darling“, her pale eyes found yours, „Look at me.“

You didn’t dare break the eye contact she established, even though it was the last thing you wanted to do right now, ears hot with embarrassment.

„Have you been thinking about that?“ she asked, and you knew exactly what she meant. Her long, long life before you, the nature of your relationship. The only thing on your mind for days now.

„I mean, it‘s stupid!“, you shook your head „It’s naive to think I‘m something special, you’ve had such a long life already,“ you poked her side, „Even though that‘s hard to believe right now.“

Agatha‘s hoarse chuckle made you smile despite everything weighing on your mind.

„I‘m going to stop you right there.“

With her healthy hand, she tried to push herself up, eyes fluttering shut as she groaned in pain. You instinctively reached for her shoulders, helping her sit up and lean against the sofa cushions.

Her hand found your cheek, palm gently cupping your cheek.

„You are something special“, her voice was low and you swallowed hard.

„Do you think I could do this with just anyone? I was just bleeding out on your couch.“ Her eyes found yours, giving you a firm little nod. „Have there been others? Of course. A witches lifespan depends on her powers, and I‘m not exactly the type other witches want around for long. It can get lonely.“ Her lips pursed into a little smirk, brows rising. „But thanks to you, it‘s not. And thanks to you, it won’t end just yet either.“ She chuckled, raising her bandaged elbow with a sharp inhale.

Your hold on her shoulders tightened just the smallest bit, holding her upwards. Her thumb ran over your cheek, and you couldn’t suppress your smile at the touch.

„What I am saying is yes, there have been lovers before you. But that does not diminish your presence in my life, and it does not make you any less special. To be quite honest, you‘re the first person to have pulled a knitting needle out of my elbow.“

She let out a little laugh and soon, you joined in. Agatha‘s hand tugged at the back of your neck, and you willingly let her pull you into a sweet, gentle kiss. Her lips brushed against yours with the familiarity of someone who had practiced plenty, pushing her chin forward into the kiss like she knew you loved her to do, and you let out a little laugh in return, teeth grazing over her bottom lip just the slightest bit. Exactly the way that made her groan, pull you in tighter, kiss you with more and more fervour, until you’d bite down on her plump lip for real.

But not right now. You pulled away before she could coax you into something more, giving the shoulder of her injured arm a gentle tap as you raised your brows at her.

„Not now Agatha! You literally almost died today.“

She let out an exasperated sigh, but then opted to wrap her healthy arm around your waist instead, pulling you closer. „But I didn’t, thanks to you.“

You gave her a warning glare but obliged as she pulled you into her lap, arm wrapped around you and your hands resting on her shoulders. She leaned forward, lips grazing over your neck just enough to make you gasp before nuzzling her face in the crook of your neck and shoulder, a spot she had found she fit perfectly into one time while napping and loved ever since. Your hands found her hair, fingers slowly running through the thick, dark waves falling down her back. She hummed against your neck at the feeling, and you felt your heart swell at the sound. Even if all of this was fleeting, at least right now, you could provide a safe space for her.

You pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head, inhaling the faint scent of the lavender oil she liked to brush through her hair.

Even if you were but a fleeting moment in her life, maybe in 10, 20 years she‘d think back to you and miss the way her nose perfectly nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“I love you, Agatha“, you whispered, so quiet, you could barely hear it yourself, „Try not to get killed while I‘m still around.“

If she heard you, she didn’t answer.

You pulled her even tighter.

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #berry writes things #aaa #marvel #mcu #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x gn!reader #agatha coven of chaos #agatha x reader #Im like kind of really proud of this hahaha

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bloody-cupcakes · 3 months ago

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can you do some joe goldberg whump headcanons?? maybe with love or an x reader

A/N: yeah of course! I chose to do x reader since that's what I write for my blogs haha

Tw: yandere/dark content, gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior, stalking, kidnapping, murder, slight gore/injuries mentioned (both on accident and intentional), drugging, emotional manipulation/gaslighting, blackmail, Stockholm syndrome implied at the end

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

First of all, know that he never actually wants to hurt you. He doesn't enjoy seeing you in any kind of pain, or hearing your muffled cries through the gag as he punishes you for whatever it is that you've done wrong this time. He loves you, and he just wants what's best for you after all

He only stalks you out of a need to know where you are at all times, just so he can be sure that you're safe. What would he do if something happened and he wasn't there to protect you? He'd never be able to forgive himself for it, hence him memorizing your entire schedule off the top of his head

Anyone who he deems as toxic or unworthy of being in your life is instantly gotten rid of, though he does feel a bit of guilt when you inevitably find out and call him a monster for it. I mean, it's fair enough, but it still hurts to hear from you of all people

"Baby, baby, can't you see? I did this for you," he does his best to reassure you, but that only makes your panicking get even worse. To be fair, you did wake up in a glass box with an accidental cut on your head from where he slammed you into the wall in a state of blind rage upon him realizing you knew what he'd done, so he could understand your fear. He just wished you'd stop staring at him like he was some sort of a monster when all he wanted to do was keep you safe

He tries to give you some space in hopes that it'll help, but as your silent (and sometimes not-so-silent) resentment begins to grow he becomes more desperate and needy. Everything he does is for you, and this is how you treat him?

Of course he can't help but adore you regardless, which is why he hates having to pin you down and whack at your ankles and knees with the hammer he uses for his book restorations. "If you're going to act like a brat, I have to treat you like one," he mutters softly while you sob in his arms after, barely able to walk after the "punishment" you'd received from him

Something you're made well aware of early on is just how much he loves you (or claims to anyway) but you soon realize that's not enough and that you have to somehow find it in you to love him back. There is no other option if you want to make it out of this alive, but how could you ever love a murderer?

It takes a while, but eventually you behave well enough over time to be able to convince him to move you out of the cage and to his apartment as long as you promise to continue being good. You try to run away that same night, and back to the basement you go, along with a brand new welt on your head from where he had to knock you out in order to get you down there

You beg over and over to be let out, and he promises he will on the condition that you'll let him give you an IV drip full of something that'll keep you feeling complacent and numb (a drug he got courtesy of Paco, who stole it from his mom for Joe's own private use)

He doesn't like keeping you drugged up, but if you insist on trying to escape then there really is no other solution, now is there? Besides, he likes being able to hold you at night and much rather prefers to keep you in the comfortable environment of his place anyway

At first you flat out refuse, but finally you reluctantly agree to his conditions, unable to bear peeing in a bucket and sleeping on the floor any longer. It felt dehumanizing, like you were nothing more than a pet kept for his entertainment. At least his apartment had a real bed and a bathroom

The drugs he put you on made you feel light and free, and it was much easier for you to obey when you were dosed up with them. Things seem to be doing okay until he discovers you'd somehow switched the specially made liquid IV full of drugs with plain water, which resulted in you attempting to leave yet again. God, when will you learn that it's never going to work out for you?

This time when you wake up in the cage, you find yourself covered in blood and lying next to the dead body of your old best friend. Joe simply watches as you frantically try your best to resuscitate the already rotting corpse with several different versions of CPR to no avail

"What have you done?" You scream hysterically, your eyes wide and frightened as you look down at the carnage you found yourself in, your clothes stained crimson red in a manner that almost seemed to mock you

"Next time you pull another stunt like that, it'll be someone you truly care about who's in there with you," he states in a way that's almost cold despite the somewhat sad look in his eyes. He really didn't want it to have to come to this, but you forced his hand. "Now you're going to help me get rid of the body, or I'll have to punish you even worse than that, do you understand?"

It was then that you knew there would be no escape. He'd always find new ways to torture you, mentally and emotionally if nothing else, and each time you stepped out of line you'd only end up getting more injured from it. Not to mention he had an ample amount of planted evidence in order to frame you if he really wanted, so naturally the only thing you could do was agree

That night you found yourself back in his small apartment, wrapped up snugly in his arms as you laid in bed together. The drugs had you feeling much more calm just like usual, and you almost felt bad for everything you'd put him through. "I'm sorry," you slurred while glancing up at him, your eyes droopy from the stolen medication you were on

He just shook his head at your apology, leaning down to place a light kiss to the tip of your nose. "No, baby, don't apologize. It's okay now, I forgive you," he gently promised you, glad that you weren't trying to fight him and his affection anymore

"Mgrh... love you..." came your mumbled reply as you buried your face in his chest. You loved him. You really, truly did. He'd gotten you to see just how much he truly cared, and you loved him for it. A smile graced his lips as he tugged you in a little bit closer. It was then that he decided no matter what the cost, he was going to keep you forever, not that you seemed to mind. He was glad the two of you were finally on the same page for once

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 10 months ago

Text

A chance encounter

Words: 1,732 [also on AO3]

Rated: E

Tags: No UD AU; Future fic; Record label owner Eddie; Waiter Steve; Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington; Blood and violence; Sex work (implied); Attempted non-con; Homophobic language; Steve Harrington whump; Eddie Munson whump; Protective Eddie Munson; Protective Steve Harrington

Notes: Happy birthday, @house-of-the-moving-image! I hope you have the most wonderful of days. I'm so happy to have found you as a friend and partner in crime. Hope you enjoy your extra long chunk of Upside Diner, even though it turned out quite gritty for a birthday fic. 😅💕🛼

Eddie grumbles under his breath as he locks the office door and steps out into the dark street.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves his job. Hellfire Records is his baby. Making music, working with all sorts of different artists and bands, helping them make a name for themselves - it’s everything he ever wanted and never thought he could have growing up in the smalltown hell of Hawkins, Indiana.

What he doesn’t love is the meetings and the paperwork and the phone calls, especially on days like this, when it all drags on until well into the night.

The echoes of his boots bounce off the empty streets as he makes his way towards the little diner at the corner. Checking his wristwatch, he swears again. Fuck, it’s even later than he thought. What if Steve’s shift is already over? The thought makes his stomach clench with an unpleasant feeling that distinctly feels like disappointment. The realization makes him pause and furrow his brow.

Maybe it’s a little bit pathetic, how quickly his visits to the diner have become the highlight of his day. Maybe it’s a little bit weird that he hasn’t had dinner anywhere else in literal weeks. Maybe it’s a little bit creepy, this obsession with a boy he knew fleetingly in highschool. An obsession that makes him come by every single day after work, without fail, just to chew on soggy fries and greasy burgers and watch said boy waiting tables, gliding around like an angel in chunky roller skates and stupidly short shorts.

Maybe he has a problem.

And maybe he doesn’t care.

Because for all his initial reluctance and bite, Steve has actually started coming around. Has been accepting Eddie’s money and attempts at conversation with barely a complaint. Has even stopped asking why Eddie keeps ordering way too much food for one person alone, taking the leftovers behind his counter to munch on. Hell, last week when Eddie came in, he even looked up from the order he was taking and flashed him a wave and smile. Eddie rode that high all night and well into the next day.

It’s the memory of that smile that makes him pick up his steps. Maybe, if he’s lucky, he’ll catch Steve at the tail end of his shift and convince him to stay around for a little longer.

The diner is empty, except for a lone person in uniform wiping down tables behind the neon-lit window pane. It isn’t Steve. Eddie spares one glance at the bored-looking girl and turns away with an annoyed groan. That’s it, he thinks, pulling his headphones from his pocket and slamming them on with a little more force than strictly necessary. Tonight officially sucks. Time to go home and fix himself some SpaghettiOs, turn on a late night show and fall asleep in front of the-

For the rest of his life, he’ll thank fate for making him fumble with his discman. Because if he’d hit the play button a second earlier, he would never have heard the voices. But this way, he does, and this way, he halts his steps, peering into the narrow side alley with a wrinkled brow. The light of the streetlamps only reaches so far, and everything he can see are the dumpsters and old cardboard boxes at its entrance. Beyond them, everything is dark.

“Dude, get your hands off me, I said no.”

Steve.

Eddie is halfway around the dumpsters before he even knows it, heart beating in his ribcage like a jackhammer. The alley reeks of piss and rotting garbage. At its far end, almost hidden behind another dumpster, are two figures. Eddie can’t make out their faces, but he also doesn’t need to. The colorful uniform is unmistakable, even in the murky half-light, even though it’s paired with a pair of sneakers rather than roller skates. And besides, he’d know that ridiculously floofy hairdo anywhere.

He doesn’t know the other man. Only knows that the guy's hands are grabbing Steve’s arms and shoulders hard enough to leave marks as he attempts to wrestle him to his knees.

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” the man hisses just as Eddie rounds the dumpster. “I’ll make it quick.”

“Are you deaf or stupid?” Steve sneers, trying to struggle out of his hold. “I said get your fucking hands off me.”

The man slaps him across the face. Steve makes a pained noise and loses his balance, going down on his knees on the dirty ground.

The man laughs, curt and mean.

“There you go,” he coos. One of his hands grabs a fist full of chestnut hair while the other reaches for the half-undone fly of his pants. “Now be a good little slut and-”

The force of the impact sends the discman tumbling from Eddie’s pocket. It shatters on the ground somewhere, parts flying in all directions, but he doesn’t have eyes for it. Instead, he grabs the asshole by the lapels of his cheap suit and hauls him against the nearest wall. The back of the asshole’s head hits the bricks, and Eddie thinks he hears something crack. Good.

“Eddie?”

While the man sags against the wall, groaning and cradling his head, Eddie whirls on Steve. Steve, who's just swaying to his feet, eyes wide and shocked. His cheek is flushed and starting to bruise.

“Shit,” Eddie swears. “Are you-”

Pain explodes inside his skull, sudden and all consuming. He stumbles, trying to keep his footing and cracks his head on the hard metal edge of the dumpster in the process. He manages to blink the stars from his vision just in time to see the man's fist flying at him. The blow makes his ears ring and copper flood his mouth, and when he regains his senses, he's on the ground with two hands closing around his throat.

“Thought you'd play the hero, huh?” The man's grin is a manic grimace. A glob of spit hits Eddie’s cheek. “Well, how'd that work out for you, you stupid little-”

“Hey, shitface!”

The man snarls and turns. Eddie doesn’t see what happens, just knows that something goes crunch and suddenly the hands pressing down on his windpipe are gone. The man's voice turns into a high-pitched wail of pain.

Eddie rolls around, coughing and gasping for air, and props himself up on his elbows. The man has shrunk against the next wall, clutching at his face. Crimson blood is bubbling out from between his fingers, hitting the alley floor in a steady pattern of drips.

“Fuck off,” Steve says and lowers the hand holding the roller skate. His voice is deadly calm, his face steely. “Remember to put away your dick first.”

The guy stares at him. Steve raises the roller skate again, just a little. The asshole whimpers and scrambles upright, mumbling something to himself. Eddie thinks he catches something about fucking lunatic fags, but he can't be sure, what with the way his voice comes out all wet and garbled. And then he's gone, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away.

Steve drops the roller skate.

“Fuck,” be whispers, crouching down next to Eddie and brushing hesitant fingers over his split lip. Ten minutes ago, Eddie would’ve given anything to feel those hands on his face, but now he winces and recoils at the sting of pain.

Steve retracts his hand, flopping down on the ground with a heavy sigh. The shorts ride up with the movement, exposing strong, muscled thighs. His knees are scraped from hitting the asphalt, little droplets of blood beading on the torn skin.

“What’d you go and do that for?” Steve asks, scrubbing a hand down his face. All of the steel is gone from his voice. He sounds tired instead, infinitely tired. “I had it under control.”

Eddie can’t help it, he barks a laugh. “Oh, did you, big boy? When was that, exactly? When he backhanded you? Or when he had you by the hair and was about to shove his cock down your-”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the one who got punched and choked half to death!” Steve snaps.

Eddie opens his mouth to argue, then shuts it again. The boy has a point, sort of. He doesn’t need a mirror to tell which one of them is looking the worse for wear right now, not with the white-hot pain still throbbing through his face with every heartbeat.

“He didn’t choke me half to death,” he mutters lamely. Steve huffs a humorless laugh.

“Thanks, anyway,” he then says. It comes out so quietly that Eddie nearly misses it, and when he looks up, Steve has averted his eyes. Eddie has an acute flashback to their first meeting at the diner, when Steve reluctantly accepted his tip money. “Could’ve gone a lot worse if you hadn’t shown up.”

Eddie feels his mouth tug into a grin, even though his lip stings like an entire beehive.

“Anytime, Stevie. Now c’mon, let’s get outtaaaaah, shit.”

Trying to stand is a bad idea. The moment he’s upright, another firework of pain goes off behind his temples and the ground tilts out from under him. The only thing that saves him from going right down again is Steve jumping to his feet and looping one of Eddie’s arms around his shoulders.

“Shit, he got you good,” he mutters. Eddie can only hum in agreement, too preoccupied with keeping the meager contents of his stomach down. “We should probably get you somewhere with a first aid kit at least.”

“‘s okay,” Eddie slurs, inadvertently leaning closer into Steve’s warmth. He smells of shampoo and frying fat and blood. “I’ll be fine, I live nearby.”

Steve’s eyes flit over his face, then off to the side, then back to his face again. He licks his lips and even in his dazed state, Eddie can clearly see how he wars with himself. Finally, he gulps and straightens his spine.

“Okay,” he says, adjusting Eddie’s weight on his shoulders. “Let’s go then.”

It’s weird, Eddie thinks as they start to hobble their way down the dark street. He must’ve fantasized a thousand times about taking Steve Harrington home, but never once did he think it’d play out like this. Then again, things in his life rarely go as he imagines, so he supposes he’s just gonna roll with it.

@steddhie @formosusiniquis @steddiehasmywholeheart @ellaelsinore @rozzieroos

Part 4

Tag list: @grtwdsmwhr @p0lybl4nkk @fairytalesreality @colidamae @dissociatingdemon

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #Upside Diner AU

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3-2-whump · 4 months ago

Text

Inspiration comes from anywhere, folks

#dryad whump #tiny whump #g/t #nonhuman whumpee #hey op if you need more whumpy goodness #I used to process and pack 1000’s of these babies at FedEx every holiday season #and we were not kind to those boxes 🫠#imagine dryad amaryllises crammed together like Tetris pieces inside a 53 footer #now imagine hundreds of those 53 footers #ah good times #whump art #other peoples art

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sickficideas · 2 months ago

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Since ur into fma now, wanted to bring up a relatively basic head cannon, which is that Edward would be dealing with his chronic pain/whatever that vomiting was in the rain when he was digging up his mother on a rainy day, and would be dealing with that at work and would kind of try and hide it, like, not explain specifically what’s going on, but still use the excuse of “I’m sick/in pain” towards mustang, and mustang wouldn’t buy it until he finds ed like, throwing up in the bathroom or like, applying a heating pad around his prosthetic that mustang realizes “oh shit, you aren’t just faking it to get out of working”

YES YES !!!!! I like this idea a lot because I feel like a lot of the time Edward and Roy are just thinking they're not on the same page (even though they're very similar) and Roy thinks low enough of Ed in the beginning to think he'd use excuses like that to slack off (even though Ed isn't that kind of person, and neither is Roy) so Roy really just scoffs and moves on, thinks nothing of it until he sees Ed actively throwing up, and then it clicks because you can't fake that !! If Ed is already at that point, he's in too much pain to fight back much (but definitely still tries) and Roy just helps him get to where he needs to be so he can rest 💔💔

#my baby......#edward elric #roy mustang #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #fullmetal headcanons #illness #ask box #sick #injury #whump #vomiting #emeto

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dix0nspretty · 10 days ago

Text

Man Down

Summary: Gaz gets shot while undercover with you in Paris, trying to catch a nuclear weapons deal.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick xGN!Reader (implied), 2.7k words.

Era: MW2

TW: Descriptions of public shooting, character being shot with typical violence levels. Hospitals, guilt, blame.

Day 18 of my bastardized version of Russian Roulette Febuwhump/Kinktober for March that I'm affectionately calling Trinket's Cause of Death. It's basically 50/50 whump/kink where I generate a number corresponding to a prompt. This first whump prompt!

Day 18: Severely injured with Gaz (whump)

Gaz and you are sitting across from one another in a Parisian café, sipping a cappuccino and people watching as he reads the newspaper. Or pretends to, at least, since his gaze is focused on the potential terrorist sitting across the patio.

Price sent the two of you in to watch the target and the men he’s supposed to be meeting to discuss the purchasing of nuclear arms. Russian, or so the intel says. You and Gaz were sent to observe the alleged deal posing as a tourist couple. Simple clothes, calm demeanors, and the ability to blend in seamlessly with the hundreds of daily tourists to France. Soap with his mohawk and Ghost’s… everything deemed them too obvious, too easy to pick from a crowd.

“How are we doing, baby?” You ask with a flirty tone and play with Kyle’s one hand interlocked with your own. The two of you have to keep up appearances, after all. What kind of couple in the city of love wouldn’t be lovey-dovey with one another? “Anything interesting in the news?”

Gaz gives you the subtle little side-smile of his that flashes just a glimpse of those perfect teeth to the receiver. Clearly, your subtle request for a sitrep served as entertainment for him. Or maybe it was hearing you have to call him ‘baby’ at work.

He glances over to the squirrelly little man you’re assigned to and gives a soft hum, tapping his finger twice on your knuckles. “Weather section says it’ll be clear for the rest of the day.” The men in supposed possession of the nukes are here, then.

You sigh softly and nod, taking a long sip of the cappuccino in front of you to signal to Ghost. He’s watching from one of the many rooftops around, a sniper rifle ready just in case the situation goes south.

Which it does, of course.

An argument starts out between the three men in Russian, loud and uncaring that they’re in a public location. Gaz gives you a worried look and a subtle shake of his hand to not engage just yet, to see if they’ll remove themselves. That plan, naturally, goes to shit when the target pulls a gun and shoots one of the Russian men.

The café descends into chaos as you and Gaz pull your handguns, trying to get sights on the shooter. “Gaz, report,” Price calls through the tiny comms in your ear but you’re too busy trying to spot the target through the throngs of people. Civilians are everywhere, screaming and running every which way to get out of harm’s way.

Gaz veers right while you go left in an attempt to box him in. The man fires several more shots, winging the surviving weapons dealer as he tried to escape but not killing him. You can hear Gaz yelling for the man to drop his weapon as he approaches but you’re temporarily cut off by several civilians running directly into your way, preventing you from providing backup.

“Lost sight of Gaz,” You tell the rest of the 141 over comms. “Repositioning further left, sir.”

“Don’t leave him hanging,” Price orders, gruff and worried. He always sounds worried when he can’t be providing backup himself for his team. “Cover him.”

“Affirm.”

But the fates are clearly not on your side or Gaz’s today because just when you gain visual of both Gaz and the target again, another round is fired. Gaz drops to the ground in perfect synchronicity with your heart.

You hear rather than see yourself unload the entirety of your clip into the target despite orders to keep him alive if possible. He shot a member of the 141- shot Gaz- and therefore, he can’t be allowed to continue to live. You’re only beating Ghost to his job after all, eliminating the threat before he could.

There’s no time to check and confirm your kill. Out of the corner of your eye you see a blur that can only be Soap chasing after the one surviving weapons dealer, most likely to capture and interrogate. But all of your focus is on Gaz’s still body on the ground.

“Man down!”

The voice over the comms barely sounds like your own, in shock as you race your way over to Gaz’s side. He’s alive, thank fuck, although he’s rapidly losing blood that a hole in his torso. Neither of you could wear bulletproof vests since they would have blown your cover, but you never anticipated it would be Gaz taking a bullet.

Not this mission, not now, not in the middle of fucking Paris of all places. You fumble to apply pressure to the wound, ignoring his shout of agony and watching as dark blood bubbles over your hands. “Man down, man down,” you can’t stop yourself from repeating. “Gaz, hold on.”

“It's alright. I'm just… Shot through the heart,” he hums a familiar tune, voice shaky and weaker than normal but still that ball of sunshine. When you place what he’s singing, you could throttle him if you weren’t so terrified of him dying under your touch. “Darling, you give love a bad name. Come on., sing it with me.”

It’s an inside joke, communicating in song lyrics. Some stupid game the two of you started on one of your first missions to fill the silence and keep tensions down. Keep one another out of their head and grounded in the moment.

“Don’t sing Bon Jovi at me right now,” You apply pressure and look around for a medic, seeing… no one. No exfil, no local police or paramedics. “Don’t joke like that, Garrick. Where the fuck is are the medics? It’s a public…” You adjust your comms with the speed of light and address Price in a tone you would never think to take with him. “I repeat, Gaz is down and I need a fucking medic, Cap.”

“Calm down love, I’ll be-” Gaz lets out a string of curses when you readjust to apply better pressure, panicking at how much blood he’s losing. “Fine. I’ll be fine, it’ll make for a killer story.”

It’s obvious the shitty puns are supposed to keep you calm, a trick Ghost uses all the time with the team, but all it does is make tears prick in your eyes. “Stop it, Kyle. Just… save your energy and wait for the medics.”

There’s no response- no laugh or horrible joke or song reference to follow up. A quick glance down reveals his eyes are shut, face paler than it was just a few seconds ago. “Kyle?” You whisper, pure fear and dread settling in. “Kyle? Gaz, wake up. You better be faking, wake up.”

A speedy check of his pulse reveals a present but thready heartbeat under blood-red fingers, just enough to ease the terror you’d begun to feel. Someone appears at your side, trying to take over where your hands are fighting against the injury to keep Gaz alive, and you snap. “Back the fuck off.” All aggression and bared teeth, a feral guard dog protecting what’s theirs.

“Sergeant.” There’s Price, a bit too soft for your liking in tone. “It’s just a medic. Move so they can do their job.”

You shake your head quickly, unwilling to move even an inch lest he bleed out instantaneously. “Mm-mm. No. I can’t, he… he’ll bleed out. I can’t.”

“You can,” He argues, and warm hands wrapping around your biceps and lifting you up and away so the fluffy of medics can attend to your fallen soldier. Tears spill down your cheeks as you watch, trembling with shock in Price’s arms as they load Kyle up into the ambulance. “They’ve got it. Let them work.”

Everything after that is a blur. John loads you up into the ambulance alongside Gaz with instructions to watch over him, that Ghost and Soap will handle the interrogation of the weapons dealer and he’ll meet you at the hospital when you can.

The ambulance is a blur as is the hospital, bits and pieces leaking through the haze that seems to have settled over your mind. Kyle’s blood staining your hands. The sound of the medics doing everything they can to patch him up until they reach the hospital. Being ushered out of the door, following the gurney. Kyle’s blood. The OR doors slamming shut in your face, leaving you in an uncomfortable plastic chair with a shock blanket and hands stained in Kyle’s blood.

Kyle’s blood, Kyle’s blood, Kyle’s blood, Kyle’s-

At some point, calloused yet gentle hands are cleaning you up with wet paper towels, wiping blood from your violently trembling hands. You can dimly remember putting up a fight about leaving the waiting room, but you can’t remember against who. Your eyes slowly drag up and something settles in your chest.

It’s Johnny, naturally. The third of your little Sergeant trio, cheery, delightfully Scottish Soap. The fact that he’s here and not beating the hell out of the prisoner implies it’s been much longer than you thought since your arrival. The thought should be worrying about all you can think about is Kyle’s blood. Sticky and red and flaking, staining you down to the bone marrow and marking you a traitor.

Untrustworthy to your team, of being the reason Gaz was shot. You provided piss-poor backup, sidetracked by a few civilians when your fellow teammate was doing all the work. You should’ve been there quicker, done better, gone right instead of left so maybe the bullet would’ve hit-

“Hush bon,” Johnny’s soft murmuring slowly breaks through the cotton in your ears as he cleans bloody streaks from your pals. “It’s okay, breathe. Gaz is alright. The tough bastard’s out of surgery an’ recovering in a room down the hall. Ye are alright.”

“He’s okay?” The voice that comes out doesn’t even sound like you. It’s hoarse, broken. Distraught and exhausted.

Johnny looks startled for a moment when you speak before giving you a gentle smile. “Look at you. Back tae the land of the living, aye? Gaz’s alright, yeah. Sleeping in his hospital bed like a wee bairn.”

Any and all jokes are lost on you, trying to stand up in search of a room you don’t even know the number of yet, but Soap keeps you seated. “Not yet. You can see him in a bit, but Cap told me tae get you outta yer shock first.”

“Shock?” You mumble. You’d recognized the fog while in the ambulance, but the idea still feels foreign.

“Aye,” Johnny agrees in a soft tone. “Medics told Price ye went into shock in the rig on the way here, wouldn’t respond tae nothin’.”

A small hum leaves your lips and you sit in silence, waiting for the moment Johnny deems you okay enough to see Kyle. The moment eventually comes and he leads you into the room, waiting to see if you’ll go into shock again before giving you some privacy.

Gaz looks awful. His normally dewy brown skin is pale and dull, his eyes closed in a restless sleep. He does look strikingly like a small child in the hospital bed, weak and defenseless.

You drop into the chair next to his bed, going back and forth on whether or not to hold his hand before hesitantly taking hold. “Kyle?”

There’s no response from Gaz, still asleep and hopped up on pain medication. That gives you time to think and it’s not long before you start to whisper to him.

“If you die on me, Kyle Garrick, I will bring you back to life just to kill you myself,” You try to force anger out instead of the true feelings you’re experiencing. “Don’t leave me to handle these morons alone, God knows I don’t have the patience.

Still no response.

The tears and bone-crushing guilt don’t leave you alone in the silence for long, manhandling you down until your forehead is on the mattress while you try to muffle your cries. “I’m sorry. I failed you, Ky. I was slow and- and clumsy and I failed you. Cap told me not to leave you hanging and I fucked up. It should be me in the hospital bed, not you. It should be me. I love you and I’ve never told you and it should be me.”

Words fall away from you as the tears flow faster and faster, having to put your free hand over your mouth while you sob.

You don’t know how much later, but you’re slowly woken up by the feeling of fingers in your hair. Gently carding and getting the strand stuck to your face from dried tears off. Groggy and exhausted eyes raise with confusion, finding their way to Gaz’s soft browns and that same smile he gave you just before everything went to shit. “There you are.”

The weak, pained tone of his voice makes the guilt burrow even deeper and you’re up like a shot, fumbling for the nurse’s button with such shaky hands you can’t get a grip.

One of Kyle’s, pale and stuck with an IV, settles on top on yours. They’re the same heat you’re used to and it’s oddly grounding, knowing that he still feels the same. “Breathe, love. Sit back down.”

“You scared the shit out of me,” You whisper brokenly as you stare at his hand, a fresh tear escaping to roll down your cheek.

Even without looking at him, you can sense the guilt he feels himself. Utterly ridiculous, who feels guilt for being shot being a hero? “I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry I scared you. You did a good job.”

That gets you to look up, brows pinching as you make eye contact. What is he talking about, you did a good job? “I got you shot,” You argue after a moment’s hesitation. “I didn’t have your back and you almost died because of it.”

“You did not get me shot.” He even has the audacity to roll his eyes, as if that was the dumbest thing he’s heard you say. A soft tug on your hand guides you to sit on the bed with him, where you perch on the edge.

“Look at me,” Kyle requests and uses his free hand to gently guide your chin when you recline. “You did not get me shot and you did not almost kill me. You know what you did do?”

He gives you a second to think before responding for you. “You took down the shooter before he could get a second fatality or continue his terror plan. You gave Soap the opening to get the Russian into our custody. And you kept me alive.”

“Don’t make me sound like a hero,” you beg him in a teary whisper. “Don’t. I should’ve had your back.”

“And you did.” God bless Gaz, so utterly patient and soft with you. His thumb is rubbing soft circles on the back of your hand, soothing you as if he didn’t wake up to a giant hole in his torso. “You’re the reason I lived. Don’t argue, I heard the doctors tell Price. If you hadn’t been there to give me aid, I would’ve bled out in the streets. You’re a hero, love, even if you don’t want to admit it. The good ones never do, anyways.”

You don’t know what to make of any of that, but he’s speaking again before you can generate a response.

“I’m going to take you out to dinner.”

At your alarmed expression, he merely laughs and kisses your knuckles, murmuring against the skin. “Not now, you numpty. When I’m discharged. I want a good meal and you deserve one for thinking I’d leave you to yourself with these morons.”

Oh, fuck. He’d heard your whole bedside confession. So that means…

Your cheeks turn a bright pink and you’re rewarded your mortification with another laugh and beautiful smile. “Bet you thought you were in the clear, hm? I won’t tell if you won’t, so long as you go to dinner with me. Deal?”

There’s a moment of silence in the cold hospital room.

“Deal.”

#trinket's cause of death #dix0nspretty fics #mdni #call of duty #gaz call of duty #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #cod #cod x reader #TCoD

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inevitably-johnlocked · 3 months ago

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Hi Steph!!! 💜💜💜 I was hoping you could help me find some fics with John as an active medical doctor or E.R. nurse?? Ideally when (or how) he meets Sherlock? *eyebrow wiggle*

Not sure where the urge comes from, but just have a hankering for some hospital shenanigans, haha.

Ty babes!!! 🫶 - Liri

JOHN IS CURRENTLY A DOCTOR

Hey Liri!!!!

Oooo good question!! First off, of course I will rec these probably-John-related-medical-themed fics:

John at the Surgery

Doctor / Caretaker John

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 2

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 3

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 4

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 5

Quarantine / Lockdown / Pandemic (MFL’s)

Coronavirus / CoVID-19 (MFLs)

Then, I have a few where he meets Sherlock as a doctor, though I haven't read them I don't believe... from a tag search and quickly skimming the descriptions. I know I've probably missed a tonne or effed up somewhere, but I'd love to make another list, so if anyone has more for Liri, let me know <3

BOOKMARKS

Non-Toxic by NinjaNina2 (M, 1,713 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Parentlock with Rosie, Established Relationship, Oneshot, Stubborn Sherlock, Worried John, Doctor John, Fluff and Humour, Misunderstandings) – Based on previous experiences, John has every right to be worried when gone for a medical conference, but what is the extent of damage This time…?!?

Q 1 HR by stillwaters01 (G, 1,795 w., 1 Ch. || New Year's Eve, Hurt/Comfort, BAMF John, Friendship, Doctor John) – On New Year’s Eve, Sherlock discovers that sometimes it’s the seemingly innocuous, rather than life-threatening, conditions that can keep John from The Work. And John is reminded just how deeply their friendship runs.

Excerpts from Purgatory by reapersun, what_alchemy (E, 5,829 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF, Doctor John, Reunion Fic, Rough Sex, Angry Sex, Bottomlock, Fic with Pics) – John serves community service in homeless shelters for chinning the superintendent. Unbeknownst to him, the Homeless Network has his back.

And A Doctor by stillwaters01 (T, 24,962 w., 6 Ch. || Five and One, BAMF John, Hurt/Comfort, Doctor John, Friendship, Character Study) – It was only when people actually saw John working as a physician that they began to understand: that it wasn’t just about bullets and IEDs and trauma care under fire. That “doctor” actually covered a pretty wide field. And that John was bloody good at covering ground. 5 times Dr. Watson treated others and 1 time he treated himself.

Turn Left at the Park by Glenmore (NR (E), 37,409 w., 28 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting / ASiP Divergence, Case Fic, Depression, Suicidal Ideation, Loneliness, No Mary, Possessive Sherlock, Fluff & Angst, Nightmares/PTSD, Sherlock Saves John, Sherlock Whump-ish, Doctor John) – So what would have happened if John hadn't walked through the park and met Stamford? What if, instead, he walked around the park and just went home?

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

Realigning Gravity Series by Raina_at (E, 69,159+ w. across 2 works || Series WiP || Sci-Fi / 24th Century Future AU || Post TRF, Cybernetic John, Estrangement, Reconciliation, Developing Relationship, Anniversary, Case Fic, Happy Endings, Doctor John) – Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them.

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Facial Shaving, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court. Part 1 of the Care And Companionship series

MARKED FOR LATER

Take me to Baker Street by MorganeUK (G, 2,087 w., 1 Ch. || Adult Ballet AU || Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Doctor John, Song Fic, Pre-Slash) – I always loved Sergei Polunin interpretation of Take me to the church so I decided to write a version where Sherlock is a ballet dancer in serious need of a doctor…

A Doctor's Touch by my_dear_man (E, 3,275 w., 1 Ch. || ACD Canon || First Time, Taking Care, Sick Sherlock, Hand Jobs, Fluff and Angst, Blow Jobs, Love Confessions, Hallucinations, Guilt, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Angst with a Happy Ending) – "I will be there, you may be sure. "I was ill at that time but not on the brink of my death bed, a nasty flu was the case, and yet, he came by to our old rooms, like the good doctor that he is and ever will be.

Fugue (n.) by reyiosa (NR [G], 3,281 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate Universe || Post-TRF, Hospital, Hallucinations, Coma, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, It Was All A Dream) – A Sherlock AU were it turns out Sherlock has made up his whole life with John as a consulting detective while stuck in a coma caused by an overdose. The real John is just a kind doctor at the hospital that sits by Sherlock’s bed and reads him detective stories.

John Hamish Watson Lestrade by MidnightMonster (G, 4,731 w., 1 Ch. || John is Lestrade's Son || ASiP, Alternate First Meeting, Older Sherlock, Younger John, POV Sherlock, Protective John) – John is Lestrade's son and is 23 years old training to be a doctor and planning to be an army-doctor. Greg's concern about John being a soldier however is pushed into the background when a new problem presents itself. Sherlock Holmes. He is worried that Sherlock will hurt John or get hurt because of him in some way. But despite his concerns and efforts of keeping them apart it seems that they can't be kept away from each other.

Wretched and Divine by meet_me_in_samarra (M, 5,130 w., 1 Ch. || Punk AU || Pining John, Seductive Sherlock, Slow Burn, Sherlock is a Doctor, Implied / Referenced Drug Use) – Dr. John Watson is on call at the A&E when he attempts to treat a very special patient. Instead he finds himself a very special treat. Part 1 of the Wretched and Divine series

Practically Perfect by vitruvianwatson (E, 6,303 w., 1 Ch. || Sugar Daddy AU || Age Difference, Younger Sherlock, Older John, Finger Fucking, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Office Sex, Emotionally Insecure Sherlock, Barista Sherlock, Doctor John, PWP) – There was a knock on the door, and then it opened. John shook the thoughts out of his head and looked up with his fake “I’m your kindly doctor” smile plastered on his face, but a second later his jaw dropped because his “patient” wasn’t a patient at all. It was none other than Sherlock bloody Holmes. Not only that, but he was dressed in one of his more indecent outfits—skin tight jeans that looked like they’d been bloody painted on, and a purple button-down that was straining, to say the least, to remain buttoned. John wondered if he’d worked at the coffee shop in that outfit today. He shut the door and leaned back against it with a wicked smile, and John heard the click of the lock.

The Curious Incident of the Detective, the Doctor and the Dogs in the Night by mydogwatson (T, 7,652 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting AU || Dogs, First Kiss, Honeymoon) – A meet-cute. Dogs and cases and romance. [TRANSLATION: Русский]

Not Your Doctor, Not Your Captain by weneedtotalkaboutsherlock (E, 8,645 w., 1 Ch. || AU || Daddy John, Barista Sherlock, Legal Age Difference, First Kiss/Time, Blow Jobs, Texting/Phone Sex, Anal, Rimming, Felching, Praise Kink, Hurt/Comfort, Pet Names, Doctor John) – "Coffee for John Watson," a voice calls, a low, deep rumble that sends a shiver down John's spine. The thought is pushed aside, his shoulders sagging at the sight of his long-awaited coffee. "Thank God." His eyes lock with long, elegant fingers around the rim of the cup, dimpling the carton in a way that John can only describe as sensual. It shouldn't be. It's seven-thirty in the bloody morning. "I'm afraid that God had not much to do in making your coffee this morning," the barista replies. "I, on the other hand…"

The Full Package by Kalimyre (E, 9,675 w., 3 Ch. || Omegaverse || First Time, Sex Toys, Virginity, Doctor John) – Kinkmeme fill. The clinic where John works caters specifically to Omegas experiencing their first heat. They provide top of the line service, and do anything necessary to ease their patients' discomfort. Omega!Sherlock is his latest patient.

Quid Pro Quo by J_Baillier (T, 10,035 w., 3 Ch. || Alternate Professions || Doctor John, Medical Conditions, Developing Relationship, Bisexual John, Sherlock’s Violin, Minor Injuries) – John Watson is a sports surgeon who thought he was at peace with his career choices but this morning, he's meeting a new patient who might just break the brittle life balance John has constructed.

Iris by Leloi (E, 11,302 w., 1 Ch. || Omegaverse || Time Travel, Mpreg, Infertility, Virgin Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Omega Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock) –John Watson was quickly learning to hate the Victorian Era. It wasn’t just the lack of proper medical care… Although that was a rather large component. It was the filth. It was the misery and the lack of regard for human life. Ok… So maybe the lack of proper medical care was a major component. It was difficult being a 21st century medical doctor stuck with 19th century technology. There was some sort of time travel involved. The really strange part is that there was a past version of himself living with a past version of Sherlock Holmes. Ok… So maybe that wasn’t the strangest part either. He seemed to be stuck in an alternate universe.

Assistance Required by Soft_Light (E, 12,162 w., 4 Ch. || PWP, Viagra, Sleepy Sherlock, Sleepy Cuddle, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Developing Relationship, Bisexual John, Demisexual Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Hair Playing, What Boundaries, It’s an Experiment) – Sherlock takes Viagra for an experiment. You can probably guess a lot of what happens next.

Transference by Jean Elizabeth (E, 16,846 w., 6 Ch. || Mental Hospital AU || Schizophrenic Sherlock, Psychologist John, Paranoia, Affairs, Friendship, Sexual Tension, Forbidden Love, Pining John, Sherlock’s Feelings, Sick Sherlock, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Angst and Humour, Sherlock/Victor, Dev. Rel. Johnlock) – Sherlock Holmes has been admitted to a mental institution for paranoid schizophrenia. He is assigned to psychologist Doctor John Watson who he inevitably begins a love affair with. John must wrestle with his guilt in putting not only his job, but Sherlock's mental well-being, in danger. Sherlock struggles with his mental disorder while living in a confining and controlling environment. So much angst and pain that can only be dulled one night a week.

keywords: Gay, Loving, Boyfriends by lookupkate (E, 17,771 w., 17 Ch. || Doctor John AU || Alternate First Meeting, Hospitals, John Writes Smut, Sherlock Reads Smut Fanfiction) – John starts writing gay romance while holed up in hospital. Sherlock reads the first fic on accident, and it sticks with him for days. He can't help but read more from the unknown writer. Little does he know, the writer isn't exactly unknown to him. The writer happens to be the A&E Doctor he's feuding with. Christ, can you imagine what he'll think once he finds out?

Hello, Hamish by Norma_de_Plume (M, 23,833 w., 18 Ch. || John/OMC and Johnlock || Pre-TRF, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Confused John, Mild Knife Violence, First Kiss/Time, Friends to Lovers, Jealous Sherlock, Doctor John, Mutual Pining, Scheming Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, BAMF John, Hurt / Comfort) – John and Sherlock never imagined that their relationship could ever be more than flatmates and best friends. Hoped, perhaps...but... *ahem* Could one person change that? What if someone else had their eye on Dr. Watson? What if it wasn't a woman?

The Scientist's Method by spacemutineer (T, 26,607 w., 7 Ch. || ACD / Granada Holmes Canon || Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt / Comfort, Time Loop, Blood / Injury, Doctor John, Developing Relationship, BAMF John, Temporary Character Death, Guilt, Drug Use / Addiction, Grief / Mourning, Friendship / Love) – Sherlock Holmes has always known the world through the straightforward lenses of evidence, logic, and reasoning. But when Watson is caught in a tragic preventable disaster, his trusted clear lines of reality start to shift and blur, and the scientist detective begins to piece together a grand discovery far beyond even his exceptional imagination. Detection is a way of learning and science is a way of knowing, but as Sherlock Holmes is about to realise, love is a way of understanding.

When We Were Young by Calais_Reno (T, 27,230 w., 10 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting AU || First Love, Nostalgia, Pre and Post TRF, Doctor John, Angst with Happy Ending) – John and Sherlock met at school, and were a bit more than friends. But they didn't stay in touch afterwards. Life goes on, and when John returns from Afghanistan, he takes a position at Barts as a trauma specialist, working in the Emergency Department. As he reports for work one day, a man jumps off the roof of the hospital. John's world tilts on its axis.

We'll Meet Again by isitandwonder (E, 29,306 w., 7 Ch. || 1940′s WWII AU || Semi-Public Sex, Blow / Hand Jobs, Anal Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Love Letters, Prolonged Separation, Implied/Referenced Rape, Epistolary, War Crimes, Infidelity, Reunion Sex, Magical Realism, Ghosts, Suicide, Sad with Happy Ending) – London during WW II: Doctor John Watson has a hot, anonymous brief encounter with a beautiful stranger during blackout. But they get interrupted. Will they ever meet again? Bittersweet Johnlock WWII AU with a twist to the present day in the end.

No Power of Mind by ab_initio (M, 29,436 w., 12 Ch. || Mental Hospital AU || Sherlock Sees Dead People, Mystrade) – On Monday, it's the Woman. Tuesday brings Henry Knight. Wednesday is Magnussen. Greg is Thursday followed by Moriarty on Friday. Sherlock see dead people in his palace of white. When Mycroft hires Doctor John Watson to take care of Sherlock, Sherlock wonders how long this doctor will last. As time passes, the doctor-patient relationship drifts away and Sherlock's visions begin to take control. As his sanity slips away, John tries to hold on and bring Sherlock back from the depths of his mind.

A Doctor in the House by KittenKin (T, 32,394 w., 24 Ch. || TEH Fix It, Hurt/Comfort, Doctor John, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, First Kiss) – A replacement for Series 3 Episode 1 of BBC's "Sherlock", because my John would never. Part 1 of the A Doctor in the House series

To Help Another by DrFish (E, 38,898 w., 20 Ch. || Omegaverse || Rape/Non-Con, Omega Sherlock, Alpha John, BAMF John, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Procedures, Mating Cycles, Bonding, Non-Con Drugs, Violence, Knotting, Oral Sex, Past Sexual Abuse, Illness, Doctor John, Case Fic, Come Inflation, Porn With Plot, Vulnerable Sherlock, Pillows and Blanket Forts, Nightmares, Kidnapping, Grief/Mourning, First Time, Virgin Sherlock, Dirty Talk, Discipline) – Dr. John Watson has been invalided out of the Army and he is struggling to come to terms with what's left of his life. When he agrees to help out with a difficult case at the hospital where he works as an emergency room physician, he not only saves this particular abused omega and others like him, but he discovers a new and better life for himself in the process.

The Montague Street Doctor by The_Circus (T, 61,488 w., 13 Ch. || Post-TRF, ACD Canon-Feeling Relationship, Gen/No Slash, Montague Street, Doctor John, Care in the Community, Reunion) – Just because Sherlock stopped, doesn't mean the Work has to. London is John's city now and he will keep it together with stitching, string, his healing, the food off his table, and sometimes the clothes off his back. John Watson keeps going. He's good at that.

A Telling Touch by MiyakoToudaiji (E, 91,656 w., 28 Ch. || Post-TRF Divergence, Reunion, Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Soldier John, Friends to Lovers, BAMF John, Doctor John, War, Syria, Violence, Blood, Injury, Fighting, Soulmates, True Love, First Kiss / Time, Slow Build, Romance, Christmas, Family, Holmes Manor, Childhood Memories, Sherlock’s Violin, Case Fic) – After Sherlock’s death, John manages to get himself re-enlisted and is sent back to war. But when two series of gruesome murders link home and outland together, John is suddenly faced with more battles than he could have imagined.

You Go To My Head Series by 7PercentSolution and J_Baillier (E, 987,192 w. across 23 Works || Surgeon AU || Medical Realism, Autism Spectrum, Anaesthetist John / Neurosurgeon Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Addiction, Angst, Slow Burn, PTSD, Pining, Insecurity, Additional Tags Under Link) – This series is an alternate universe one, featuring the exciting medical and romantic adventures of doctors Watson and Holmes.

WORKS IN PROGRESS

How They Move In Silence by Breath4Soul (M, 5,186 w., 4/? Ch. || WiP || Doctor John, Doctor/Patient, Voiceless Sherlock, Sick Sherlock, Texting) – Sherlock loses his voice and has to communicate through texts which leads to love confessions.

we are more than the footnotes my love by poechild (T, 17,874+ w., 1 of 2 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Unilock, Drug Addict Sherlock, Caring / Doctor John, Protective John, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-ASiP, Pining John, Massage, Shaving, Hurt Sherlock, Concussions, Drug Withdrawal) – A druggie kisses John on the street then steals his wallet. John, of course, takes him home.

20,000 leagues under the sea: A Victorian Sherlock AU by MorganeUK (G, 30,544+ w., 15/? Ch || Victorian Steampunk AU || WiP || Scientist Sherlock, Submarines) – The Holmes Brothers are living under the sea, protected from the world violence and general stupidity… Alone, with only a small crew, they explore the world inside their submersible. Perfectly satisfied and unaware of their loneliness, until they meet Captain Lestrade and Doctor Watson from the Royal Navy.

Only Yesterday by Berty (T, 47,530+ w., 18/20 Ch. || WiP || Alternate Timelines / 'Yesterday' AU || Post-TRF, POV John, Grief, Mental Instability, Angst, Unrequited Love, Suspense, Scotland, Hurt John, Developing Relationship, Doctor John, John is a Mess) – Sherlock has been gone for two years and John Watson is doing okay. He goes to work. He sleeps (sometimes). He eats. He has colleagues, some of whom are even friends. He has purpose. If it's not a life as others might view it, it's a fair approximation. It's fine. He's fine. One night the lights go out and when they come back on everything is the same except for one important thing. For John it's theÂ mostÂ important thing. And suddenly John is not fine at all.

Vampires In London Series by Madam_Fandom (E, 148,590+ w. across 4 works || Series WiP || Vampire AU || Vampire Sherlock, Psychic/Empath John, Mutual Pining, Blood Drinking, Feeding, Jealousy, Angst, Implied / Referenced Rape/Non Con, Graphic Violence, Past Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Physical /Emotional / Psychological Abuse, Vampire Sex, First Time, Doctor John, Bisexual John) – John is a doctor and nothing ever happens to him, and then it does. He meets two fascinating men at a fundraiser...he soon finds out vampires are real and they are in London.

Care And Companionship Series by elldotsee and J_Baillier (E, 209,820+ w. across 5 works || Series WiP || Me Before You Fusion || Angst, Romance, Depression, Medical Ethics, Insecure Sherlock, Serious Illness, Permanent Injury, Sherlock Whump, BAMF John, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Physical Rehabilitation, Medical Realism, Assisted Suicide, Awkward Sex, Friends to Lovers, Alcoholism, John Whump, PTSD, Anxiety, Family Drama, Caretaker John, Alternating POVs) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

UNEXPECTED OCCURENCE by Victoria557 (M, 295,878+ w., 124/? Ch. || WiP || Post-TRF Divergence, Unexpected Parenthood, PTSD, Trauma, Child Abandonment, Slow Burn, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Self-Harm, Intrusive Thoughts, Doctor John, Self-Esteem Issues, Anxiety Disorder, Misunderstandings, No Mary) – Barely five months after Sherlock's death, John was slowly yet so ever damn surely falling apart. Every day since then, he had just been surviving not living. When Lestrade phone him, with nervousness and uncertainty in his voice, asking for some help with a case since Anderson who usually did the forensic stuff, and another worker who examined the body had been unfortunately unavailable and with the downfall of Lestrade's record recently, he couldn't afford to risk another scolding from his supervisor, John agreed, despite the forming of the painful twist in his stomach at the thought of being at a crime scene without a certain arrogant high-functioning sociopath. Never did he expect to encounter such a surreal event and never did he expect to find out Sherlock having a secret - well secret would be unfitting as the man himself didn't realize this.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #john is a doctor #doctor john fics #medical fics #fic rec sunday #john fics #long post

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whumpsoda · 5 months ago

Text

WSFSP - Lick It Clean

Masterlist

This is pretty small but I really wanted to get something done :)

cw: pet whump, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, institutionalized slavery, romantic whumpee, conditioned whumpee, dubcon mention

——————

“I’m disappointed, Princey.” The tap, tap, tap of his boots rang against the marble with each step Atticus took around the contrastingly vibrant pool of polish. “I thought you knew better than this.”

His pet, so beautiful kneeling, hung his head low. “I- I’m so sorry sir-,”

“No stuttering.”

Eyes going wide, Prince swallowed. “I’m sorry, sir. I beg for forgiveness.” Atticus wanted to give his luxurious lips the biggest kiss just for that, but had to hold himself back. He couldn’t ruin that wonderful look of fear scribbled over his features. “I just wanted to make you think my nails looked pretty-,”

“No excuses.”

“Sorry.” His gaze flickered from the floor to Atticus, seemingly searching for any semblance of affection. It was only a minor spill, after all. “My deepest apologies, sir.”

“Whatever shall I do with you? Making a mess like this?” Laughing, Atticus inflicted a stinging bitterness into his words. Just like how he spoke to the mutt. “You know the maids take care of your nails well enough already, stupid thing, color would ruin them. Especially whatever color that is.”

His fingers tap, tap, tapped over the white of the bathroom wall. “I want to see you grovel, Princey.”

Pressing his head to the floor, Prince stuck his sweet ass in the air, almost as if it would distract his owner from the punishment he was inflicting. Sensual and trained. A slut even in fear. “I apologize sir, please forgive me. Please, please, sir.”

The mess was really of no meaning to him - the maids would have it disappear in a matter of seconds. His Princey was just oh so very cute when he was scared.

“What punishment do you deserve?” He took his pet by the chin, tipping him back to a kneel. “How about the dog house?”

Instinctively he yelped a whine, slick and squeaking with horror.

“I’m just kidding, Princey, I would never. That’s reserved for the mutt.” Atticus felt as he relaxed back into his owner’s grip. “Besides, being balled up in there would ruin your hair.”

Gazing with those gentle, puppy dog eyes of his, Prince pouted. “I’m so, so sorry, sir, I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

“So eager.” He chuckled, and his doggy flinched. “Princey? My pet?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You see my boot?” Letting go of the pet’s chin, Atticus sat to the edge of the tub. “Lick it clean.”

Jaw falling slack, Prince stifled a gasp. Shock filled terror looked so delicious in his face, so much so that Atticus couldn’t resist a grin as his pet nodded. “Y- yes, sir. Yes, sir.”

Tongue outstretched and quivering, Prince hesitated, just before the shoe was shoved into his open mouth. “Get a little more there, okay Princey? Won’t you baby?”

Watching with intense attention, Atticus had his chin rest to his palm. “Oh, I think you missed a spot. A little to the left.”

Brows furrowing, Prince dipped up. “Mmmgh-,”

“Oh dear!” Atticus exclaimed. How absolutely adorable. Just what he’d paid for. “You can’t remember which is which? Well doesn’t that just suck. My dumb Princey.”

Tears clouded his pet’s eyes, and Atticus watched him fail to blink them away. “Did I hurt your feelings, Princey? Sir is so mean loving, and caring for you. But I didn’t tell you to cry.”

His Princey. His perfect pet, whose perfect slobber and tears coated his freshly new work shoe.

——————

Masterlist

Taglist - @softvampirewhump @ivymyers @taterswhump @octopus-reactivated @tippytappytyping

@distracted-obsessions @starfields08000 @bitchaknso @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @scoundrelwithboba

@whumped-by-glitter @whumpering-heights @arlin-always-writing @bilightningwhumper @sharkyydoesnothing

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

#Writing #my writing #whump writing #whump #whumpblt #Pet whump #bbu #box boy universe #box boy whump #bbu adjacent #institutionalized slavery #romantic whumpee #Dubcon mention #We search for stolen personhood #Prince oc #Atticus Gordon oc

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whumpsday · 9 months ago

Text

Catharsis #3: Unboxed

Masterlist

content: robot whumpee, whumpee turned whumper, defiant whumpee, violence, psychological whump

Whumpmas in July Day 9: Mind Games

i wanted to introduce each arc before continuing on with the present arc. i'll probably pop all over the place chronologically since that's how i write best!

here's 1's first day alive, though that wasn't his name at the time.

Cyrus opened his eyes for the very first time.

He was in a room in a house or apartment. It may have been his first moment of conscious thought, but he was not a human, and he was certainly not a baby. He was still in his box, he realized: he climbed out of it, brushing himself off, smoothing out the wrinkles in the disappointingly plain clothes he came dressed in. There was a man there, taking a step back. Probably the one who had turned him on.

The first strong opinion he ever had was that he was unequivocally better than the nervous man standing in front of him.

Luan, his mind supplied. His… owner’s name was Luan. He didn’t like that word, owner. It felt incongruous. Wrong. He wasn’t something to be owned, Cyrus knew that for sure. If anything, he should be the one doing the owning.

At the same time, he knew exactly what he was: a Catharsis Therapy Bot™. An expensive object to be bought and sold. A thing to act as programmed and be beaten until its owner felt better.

Cyrus frowned. That couldn’t be right at all. The only thing that felt right about any of that was that he was expensive.

“Cyrus?” Luan asked, apprehension evident in every twitch of his body. He winced immediately, like the name itself had hurt him. Pathetic.

Oh, there was no way this sniveling loser was his owner.

He found that his face moved automatically, parts shifting to match his expression to his intent as he looked on disapprovingly. “I’m better than you. This isn’t right.”

Luan’s eyes went wide for only a moment before he scowled right back. “You don’t like it when the shoe’s on the other foot, huh? Too fucking bad. You’re mine this time.”

Cyrus tried to search for what Luan meant, but he came up empty. Luan hadn’t supplied him with information on their history. On his history with… the other Cyrus.

But he didn’t need it. Luan was making it obvious enough for him to know exactly what to do and say, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“So you were mine before. That makes sense, that’s where you belong.” Cyrus stepped forward and patted him on the cheek with a smirk.

Luan flinched. “Don’t touch me.”

“You’re in no place to tell me what to do.” Cyrus tried to poke him in the chest to make his point.

His arm did not move.

Again, he tried, and again, nothing. Experimentally, he lifted his arm without intent to touch Luan: no issue.

He wasn’t smirking anymore.

“Oh, I think I am.” Luan pushed him hard, sending him tumbling to the floor.

Cyrus fell just next to the box, the sensors inside his skin lighting up with pain wherever he made impact–it hurt. He was sturdy, he had to be, but heavy with metal that pinched his skin. He sucked in air he didn’t need by instinct, a useless humanlike reaction he immediately found annoying, just to tint it a little worse.

Something was bubbling up inside him, and he did not like it.

“You do not fucking touch me!” he screamed, his voice shrill out of the speaker down his throat as he pushed himself back to his feet. “How dare you!? You pathetic coward! You don’t deserve to own something– someone like me, let alone… push me! You are beneath me. You are fucking nothing. You–”

Luan’s fist cracked against his cheek. He didn’t go down this time, only stumbled, but it hurt worse than the fall. He didn’t think anything could hurt worse than that. He hadn’t felt anything before. His hands went to protect his aching cheek, the words almost knocked out of him with the shock of it, but he found his place again soon enough. “You–”

“Shut up.”

Cyrus’s volume dropped straight to zero, and he found that he no longer possessed the ability to raise it.

That thing bubbling up in him only intensified, and this time it came with a pathetic urge to back away and submit. Obviously, something he would never indulge.

He glared at Luan with what he hoped was enough pointed hate to make himself clear without words.

“You don’t get to talk to me like that anymore!” Luan hissed, rubbing his knuckles. “You’re not in charge this time! You’re the one who has to listen to what I say! You’re the one who has to take it!”

He pushed Cyrus again, harder. He fell like a stone, tripping over his box this time. He was almost glad his voice was cut, because otherwise, he would have cried out, another annoying reflex programmed to make him seem more human. Weaker, more pitiful. It was infuriating.

Water began leaking from his eyes, blurring his lenses. No, no, this wasn’t who he was. He was supposed to be the powerful one.

Luan stared at his own hands like an easily-impressed child. With every moment, Cyrus only hated him more.

He started to push himself up again, but all Luan had to say was “Stay down,” and Cyrus couldn’t do that anymore, either.

Luan grabbed him by the shirt collar. “And I don’t have to take your shit ever again. What do you have to say for yourself? Speak.”

Not only could Cyrus speak now, he couldn’t remain silent if he tried. “I hate you.”

Luan laughed, dry and joyless. “Good. Feeling’s mutual.” He let go. “You know what you’re for, right?”

“I…” Of course he knew. “Something’s wrong.”

“This is the first time it’s ever been right!” Luan corrected. His hands were shaking. Water leaked from his eyes too, Cyrus realized.

“You’re scared of me,” he put together. “You’re scared of a robot you ordered! Ha! At least some part of you knows your place.”

“Shut up!” Just as he stole Cyrus’s voice away again, Luan landed a kick in his abdomen. It was worse than the punch, a sharp sensation hitting him hard, and just like last time, he didn’t realize anything could be worse.

The terror bubbling up in him couldn’t be denied anymore. How much worse could it get? He’d only been alive for five minutes and it was already this bad.

“You know what?” Luan cut in. “This really is cathartic.”

taglist:

@sowhumpshaped

@cupcakes-and-pain

@taterswhump

@softvampirewhump

@whumpspicelatte

@ladyblogofficialreporter

@whumpwillow

@not-a-space-alien

@a-crumb-of-whump

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps

@t0rture-me

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

@pigeonwhumps

@the-scrapegoat

@whumpycries

@lonesome--hunter

@whumpy-wyrms

@alextries

@echo-goes-aaa

@morning-star-whump

@bitchaknso

@befuddled-calico-whump

@snakebites-and-ink

@deluxewhump

@whatwhump

@thorstomp

@vioqueenofmushrooms

@skinofafish

@whumped-by-glitter

@strugglingpedestrian

@oddsconvert

@wolfeyedwitch

@whumpalicious-fruitfly

@fleur-a-whump

@paperprinxe

@starfields08000

event: @whumpmasinjuly

#catharsis #whump #my writing #robot whumpee #whumpee turned whumper #defiant whumpee #psychological whump #beating #wij24day9 #whumpmasinjuly2024

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