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ghosttotheparty · 1 year

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part two of this post bc i easily succumbed to peer pressure; this is 90% just them making out both parts are now on ao3 :) cw: they’re just kinda gross (several mentions of spit) and Weird (affectionate)

Eddie’s glad he doesn’t come across any cops on his way to Steve’s, because he’s definitely speeding.

The downstairs lights are on when he gets to his house, and his hands start shaking as he approaches the front door, his fist hovering over the wood as he exhales.

He knocks.

Three times, firm and loud, and he steps back, taking a deep breath.

A few seconds pass, a few long, long seconds, before the door swings open. Steve is in the doorway, holding the door, his eyes wide.

“Hi,” Eddie says softly, breathless.

“Hi.”

They stare at each other, Steve in the light of the entryway, Eddie in the dark of the night. Eddie itches to grab him, to tug him into a kiss, to wrap him in a hug so tight neither of them can breathe. But he just looks back at him, his trembling hands by his sides.

“You’re not…” He hesitates, looking between Steve’s eyes. “Second guessing this. Are you?”

Steve scoffs dryly.

“I’m falling in love with you, Eddie,” he says softly, and Eddie thinks he might be dying, because now he’s not just hearing it, but he’s watching Steve’s lips form every word. “It’s not something I can just… change my mind about.”

He stares at Eddie some more as Eddie’s cheeks flush, and his voice softens even more somehow when he speaks again.

“It’s not something I wanna change my mind about.”

Eddie’s eyes burn.

He steps closer to the doorway. Steve watches him.

“You’re not changing your mind,” Steve says quietly, his eyes flicking across Eddie’s face as he gets closer. “Are you?”

“Do I look like I’m changing my mind?” Eddie breathes. They’re close enough for Eddie to count his eyelashes. Steve’s eyes are dark, and Eddie gazes at him freely, because now he can.

He can feel Steve’s breath on his face as they get closer, silent except the pounding of their hearts and the rustling of wind in the forest around them.

And then Steve is kissing him, hard and desperate and in a way Eddie’s never been kissed before. His eyes squeeze shut and he kisses him back, reaching through the doorway to grab at his waist as Steve’s arm wraps around Eddie’s neck and tugs him closer.

Eddie’s body flushes with heat and a weak noise escapes his throat as Steve pulls him inside roughly, stumbling in after him and barely hearing the door slam behind them. Eddie’s back hits a wall, and he gasps, his hands clawing at Steve’s back as Steve slides his tongue against Eddie’s.

Steve’s hands are warm as they slide over Eddie’s neck, his fingers digging into his skin, into his scars, holding Eddie like they’ll both fall apart if he lets go. He tilts his head to kiss Eddie deeper, pulling Eddie closer until he stands up off the wall before he pushes him back against it. Eddie whimpers, his fingers gripping Steve’s shirt in tight fists.

They’re both breathing hard into each other’s mouths, arms tight around each other, Steve’s fingers tangled tightly in Eddie’s curls, Eddie’s hands shoving under Steve's shirt and clutching at him, scratching his back, their chests pressed together, their pounding hearts separated only by skin in fabric. Clutching and frantic and desperate like they’re trying to melt together.

Steve lets out a sound that’s almost a sob, and Eddie gasps, pulling away to look at him. Their lips and chins are slick, and Steve’s eyes are dark and gleaming at him, half-shut. Eddie pushes away from the wall, panting as he turns them around and shoves Steve against the wall.

Steve whimpers loudly, his fist tightening in Eddie’s hair, and Eddie kisses him so hard their teeth clash. Steve holds Eddie’s head in place as he sucks on his tongue, tugging at his hair again, tilting his head, leaning close, back arching as Eddie’s hands pull him. They’re connected by a string of spit when they separate, breathing hard, and Eddie eyes it for a moment before he sticks his tongue out, catching it.

Steve’s eyes flutter shut.

“Steve,” Eddie breathes.

“Mm.”

“I want…”

He trails off, unsure of what to say. Unsure of what he wants. He wants everything. To tear their shirts off over their heads, to shove his hand down Steve’s pants, to get down on one knee and take off one of his own rings to put on Steve’s finger.

Steve’s eyes open and he looks at him, exhaling, his breath slowing, and his fingers release Eddie’s hair, combing through it slowly. Eddie presses his hands flat against Steve’s back, sliding one down to his ass and gripping it gently. Steve’s breath catches in his throat.

“Anything, Eddie,” Steve breathes.

"Anything?" Eddie whispers, raising his eyebrows and smiling softly when Steve smiles.

"Mhmm."

Eddie's hand squeezes, and Steve bites his lip, closing his eyes and tilting his head back in pleasure as Eddie ducks his head down, nudging his nose against Steve's cheek and jaw gently. Their breathing is slowing, their hearts calming down, but Eddie's hands are still shaking. He kisses the cut of Steve's jaw softly, exhaling against his skin and listening to Steve hum.

"Okay?" he murmurs, nosing down his neck. Steve hums again.

"Feels so good."

Eddie smiles against him and kisses him slowly, teasing the skin between his teeth, sucking softly when Steve's hands tighten in his hair, and Eddie slips a hand under his shirt to his waist. He presses his hand over Steve's scars, over the swirling, storm cloud flesh, and Steve exhales sharply.

"Still okay?"

"Yes, don't-- Don't stop. Anything."

Eddie closes his eyes and tightens his hands again, listening to the way Steve's breath catches, and then he slides his tongue across the side of Steve's neck. Steve's head tilts to the side to give him space, and he sighs, his shoulders slumping like he's falling asleep.

"That your weak spot?" Eddie teases quietly, grinning when Steve's cheeks turn pink.

"Mm."

Eddie does it again, slower, more carefully, the top of his head tingling as Steve's fist tightens in his hair. When his tongue reaches his jaw, Eddie pulls back to look at Steve.

He looks asleep, but also like he might cry, his lips parted, his eyebrows furrowed just slightly. Eddie's eys burn as he gazes at him, wondering how he'd look as a Renaissance painting or something. He has the kind of face an artist would love. Especially when he looks this... blissful.

"Stevie," Eddie whispers. Steve doesn't open his eyes. He just tilts his head a little bit, like he's showing Eddie that he's listening. "I love you."

Steve smiles without looking at him, his cheek flushing a lovely pink.

"Lick me," he whispers.

Eddie beams, leaning close and nudging their noses together.

"And they call me the freak." "Please, baby," Steve whispers, blinking blearily at him, looking the way Eddie feels. The floor gives out under Eddie. He almost disappears. Steve is smiling so softly that he's barely smiling at all. "Make me a freak."

"Fuck," Eddie breathes, closing his eyes for a moment before he tilts his head and nudges at Steve's jaw. Steve lets out a strained exhale when Eddie runs his tongue over it slowly, carefully, and he lets out another breath when Eddie bites down gently.

"Yes," Steve murmurs, his fingers scratching over Eddie's scalp roughly, his breath heavy. "Yes, give me-- Mark me, Eddie, fuck."

Eddie feels too hot, like he's going to pass out, and he desperately wants to pull his shirt off (and then Steve's), but he focuses, sucking Steve's skin between his teeth and nibbling at it before he bites down hard. Steve gasps, his fingers clenching, but his head falls back against the wall, and he lets out a desperate yes, yes, please.

Eddie looks at the mark when he's satisfied, when Steve is trembling so hard it feels like he might cry. It's dark, already flushing reading, and Eddie smiles at it, admiring his work He wonders briefly if this is how artists feel when finishing a piece, and then he slides his tongue over the mark, pretending to soothe it, but Steve groans quietly. Eddie might be on fire. He licks up over his jaw, up his cheek.

His face is salty. Eddie remembers the way his eyelashes look like they're clumped, wearing mascara, and he realises he's tasting Steve's tears. He slides his tongue over Steve's cheek again, then his chin, then his other cheek, tilting his head, and his hand squeezes at Steve's ass as Steve tugs his hair. Steve lets out a whine.

Eddie doesn't stop, kitten-licking Steve's face, holding his neck with one hand (he can't pull the hand on his ass away, for reasons), tasting Steve's tears and skin and finally his spit as Eddie licks across his lips and Steve opens them. He only manages to pull his hands away when Steve kisses him back desperately, sloppy and messy until their lips are sliding with their spit, and he reaches down to Steve's thighs.

His fingers grip him tightly, picking him up with unexpected ease, and he grins into his mouth at the soft sound it elicits.

"Sofa?" he gasps, his heart pounding again.

"Fuck, yeah. Yes."

#i have no idea what just happened #i started writing and this happened #Zero Plot Baby #anyway im working on the final part of pretty girls rn but im stuck #but i have too many ideas to just not write it #its almost five am tho #anyway good night or whatever love u guys <3 #steddie #steddie one shot #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steve harrington one shot #eddie munson #eddie munson one shot #stranger things #stranger things one shot

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liauditore · 8 months

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OVERSIZED JACKET JIMMY-

YES!!!!!!!!!!

#my art #jimmy solidarity #i try to put thought into what clothes i put everyone in #incoming rambling in the tags #i love and adore all the aus people make where jimmy gets to wear cute clothes mwah #cus i think he should #but i also think my jimmy specifically is like.. not very fashion forward? idk i think most of his stuff is hand-me-downs #+he'd probably be more concerned abt being able to run around and be comfy anyway than looking good #so whenever he is in like an outfit thats more elaborate or pretty i always just imagine someone else dressed him lmao #like saint jim jeans or his mcc skins #++ its a cute idea to me if he ends up surprising ppl on the rare occasion he does glam up cus everyones used to him just wearing jeans #ANYWAY UH YEAH OVERSIZED JACKET CUTE + IN CHARACTER in my head #i think he likes it when it goes swoosh in the wind

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reel-fear · 2 months

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Wow, so umm... This looks bad, not only is it inaccurate due to using the wrong ink demon design [unless this is confirmation BATIM Ink Demon has been outright retconned... Which would make me pissed enough to make a new post just about THAT] but from an art standpoint this is just... Confusing and poorly done.

I wouldn't care if this was fanart, of course you should support young, indie artists... But for a Graphic Novel making sure your cover doesn't look like something Butch Hartman shat out in an afternoon is kind of important. Remember they're going to be asking us to give money to them to read this. The artist likely won't see any of that money and neither do the authors most of the time, not to mention this art screams of the artist being underpaid and overworked.

Like they Had to get something on someone's desk and their boss said 'good enough'. A concept Joey Drew Studios is very familiar with considering the allegations of poor working environments that Kindly Beast. Not to mention Mike Mood admitting in a Reddit AMA that they did in fact rush projects like Showdown Bandit. [Which they sold at full price]

He also says they can in fact say no or yes to designs involving their IP. Either Mike or Meatly had to say yes to this cover, according to his own damn words.

And do you really think this company in particular would care enough about its fanbase to not sell them garbage? They have done exactly that on several occasions. It's not like they care particularly about art either, considering their previous use of AI Art. There was no apology or even posts addressing it... Instead, they just rushed out an archives update to their game to get people to stop talking about it... Even forgetting an entire character in it. Again

This company is [or at least SHOULD BE] on thin ice when it comes to being suspected of misleading their fans or rushing out crappy products to them.

So with all that context in mind, I'm gonna talk about why this cover sucks ass.

The light sources are all over the place? Why does it look like someone put maces or knight armor on his shoulders but it's just flesh?? It looks both gross and weird [not in a good way either]

To explain more I'm going on a rant below but sadly this seems to have been confirmed to not just be a rough pass but the final cover and man... I am not excited about this graphic novel just at all. This felt like it really drained any possibility of it turning out good for me and I already had expectations low.

Okay first point, the light sources?? And there is no consistency here with the shadows or lighting, it looks like there's a hundred light sources all at once but none of them are even consistent!

the arrows here represent all the different light sources I can make out and yet the the shadow clearly implies there's only one. I understand wanting to use highlights to give the character a more clear shape but then just give him one or two lights behind him or in front of him? No matter how u follow the light sources, the highlights make no sense and the shadows make even less sense.

Why are the shoulders like that? Like on the legs it's a little understandable, at least those are clearly very heavily affected by perspective, for me I think they are so exaggerated it makes it look like one of the legs is either huge or one is small but that's maybe subjective.

However, the shoulders are unjustifiable, what happened there, what did they do??

I could pick on so much more honestly, how the color choices of piss yellow with no other colors being used, and the harsh pitch black being used for every part of his body is weird. How it looks straight out of Butch Hartman's recent crappy art. But to put bluntly bad start! Also what the HELL is going on with this background??

Seems once again the Bendy team is fine with sending out stuff thinking it's "Good Enough" for Bendy fans and honestly the people trying to tell me to "Be Grateful" for this are just proving that no matter how many times you betray your audience some of em will defend you!

Which is sad tbh. If anything we should be putting MORE pressure on the Bendy team to do better. Cause we deserve better than this, honestly we do. There are amazing artists in the bendy community who could do so much better for a cover. They've employed their fan artists before... Wouldn't it be great to do that for such a lore important book? The book that gives us the identity of one of the main characters in BATIM? The character you spend the entirety of Chapter 4 fighting to save? Not to mention will give several major characters their human designs?

But I guess this is... Good enough...

#ramblez #batim #batdr #bendy and the ink machine #bendy and the dark revival #sorry I've been on a positivity streak with bendy I know but I have to be honest and being honest I think this sucks lol #Im sure plenty of people Disagree and while I would argue this is more objective than subjective people will ignore me if they want to #maybe Im just a hater idk #but I do know one thing I sure do hate this and Im pretty sure Ill hate this novel and its designs #but maybe I wont ya never know #anyways if they do retcon batim ink demon I will make a post abt how much I dislike batdrs ink demon design #and why I think all the people saying its better than the og seriously arent understanding #what made batims ink demon good or character design in general tbh #to put bluntly just bc something is popular opinion DOES NOT make it right or a good idea design wise #not everyone is qualified to be a character designer and thats just good advice in general tbh #anyways yeah thats it sorry im being mean today </3 #I simply think corporations shouldnt be able to rush out crappy products to their fans and get paid for it but ig thats a hot take now #but esp with how bad that updated employee handbook was too and it still had stolen renders from fans in it...#yeah I dont think theyve learned a damn thing

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cradle-of-darkness · 6 months

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COOKIES OF DARKNESS NATION WE ARE OFFICIALLY BACK 💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

(long rambling in tags if u care)

#cookie run #licorice cookie #red velvet cookie #affogato cookie #I KNOW im late to this but i was at school ok 🙄 anyways i have a lot of thoughts #first off LICORICE UGH I MISSED HIM SO BAD IM SO HAPPY FOR HIM #his stats are so fascinating to me. i don't think anyone was expecting his strength to be that high #its pretty average but its still his best stat surprisingly #im shocked his strategy and puzzle solving are only 3. i think that's a strange decision to make them so low but I'm open to accepting it #maybe his avoidance/lack of ability to see the big picture contributes to the low scores?#his stats are so unexpected but I could get used to it. still i want an elaboration from devsis on these #i want them to show his strength in the show because i was expecting his strength to be like. 3 or 4 #but anywho. i think its very funny how affo is 0 strength. i love how its canon licorice could easily kick his ass in a fist fight #i really do love affo and im SO happy to see him with the cod fucking finally all we got with him as a cod until now was ODYSSEY 😭#im so excited to see him work with the cod as an actual member. he's a very fun character for me #i cant wait for them to actually make him feel like one of the cookies of darkness its been over a year since he joined by now c'mon #im just so ecstatic that the cod are back. hopefully this is a good omen and will pave the way for more cod appearances soon #bcs u all know how i feel about the lack of cod for the better part of the past year. this better be their comeback i believe in them #😁😁😁😁😁😁 IM JUST SO HAPPY THIS IS THE BEST POSSIBLE OUTCOME IM SO HAPPY U HSVE NO IDEA I LITERALLY SCREAMED #btw ik crepe is there. but they're in a weird grey area of being a cod so i didn't post them BUT IM VERY HAPPY THEY'RE THERE TOO ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️#♦️charlie's miscellaneous

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front-facing-pokemon · 11 months

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#lotad #this is a good one. not because it's particularly Funnier than any given pokémon staring straight at the screen‚ but just because lotad #everyone likes lotad. i've never met anyone who Doesn't like lotad #y'all all i can think about is totk. i finally picked it up yesterday and i wanna get back to that so i gotta be quick #lotad is cute and i love its banana mouth thing. no idea what's happening and the eyes are really good. looking in two different directions #also it's the name of a low-optimization tool-assisted demonstration in speedrunning which i think is pretty awesome #i'm pretty into speedrunning. not like— not like *doing* it although i'd love to try actually speedrunning someday. i just dunno if i could #i dunno if i have the motor skills required for speedrunning. so i'm just a Casual Speedrunning Fan i suppose #anyway. lotad

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cosmic-chat · 1 year

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Y’alll look at my Rainbow Monkey Earrings!! I made them!!

#they’re def not perfect but for my first try at making clay earrings I think I did pretty good!#highly recommend making ur own jewelry its great #I have ideas on how to improve the design but for now they’ve been fun for personal use 💕#anyways Im open to any other ideas for KND earrings lol #knd #codename kids next door #rainbow monkeys #my art~#?#kinda lol?

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manofthepipis · 1 year

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One thing that I’ve been thinking about is a possible route(?) this story could go, and that is Spamton’s trip to the Ambyu-Lances’s office. And boy do I feel bad for the Addisons because it’s gonna be hell on earth for all of em. Spamton has the mentality of a feral cat and this feral cat is going to the vet in the first time in forever. I don’t think Spamton is a big fan of large syringes, and when you have one of those chasing you down because well, look at him. He’s a walking talking corrupted program. If masters his glitches like Survey says, I can totally see him glitching through the doctors to make his grand escape™️. I feel like all the Addisons are gonna have to be here for both moral support, as well as making sure that he doesn’t attack his doctor. (Maybe they’ll sedate him a little? I know that’s what some hospitals do with rowdy-er patients LMAO, but then the Addisons have a whole new problem on their hands because now Spamton is high as a mf kite or something 😭) the last time I was under anesthesia my doctor said I wouldn’t stop laughing until I burst out into uncontrollable sobs and then I immediately blacked out💀

god a trip to the doctors office would be hell in a handbasket for this guy ;v; because he 100% has the energy of a feral cat finally being checked out

though i think once he gets closer to the addisons he'd agree to go, just to see if he can be set back to normal (spoiler alert: he can't cuz fate has handed his ass the bad luck card from square one) but he immediately regrets it and the addisons have to calm him down

them sedating him would probably be the best course of action as to actually get ANY results (because he will bite and attack on instinct hfjkkdjfkks)

though i feel if i were to write an ambyu-lance scene in the future this is how id imagine it would go:

#im a giggly hysterical laughing mess under anesthesia until im out #but i can 100% imagine spamton in ur experience #like hed be uncontrollably laughing sobbing glitching just the whole board of emotions until- bam- hes out #but not without a couple escape attempts first #but also my hcs about his corruption is truly it cant be reversed #and that the man on the phone changed him in a way that no darkner can help- at least in their world #a lightner thats like very good with computers and code could fix him maybe but then again hes pretty fried #its not entirely a bad thing infact id feel hes been like this so long that going back to the guy he once was would even mess him up more #thats just my lil take on it like im a fan in healing but not completely-going-back-to-the-way-things-were-type thing #maybe thats just irl bias like after going through something traumatic and everyone expects u to be like u were but youre not #but again your changes aren't bad just as long as you're healthy and healing and happy #thats why i keep his hair black in my fics :D also bc he thinks he looks great with the different hair color which he does #oof these tags got outta hand srry anyways thx for the ask!! i loved this idea so i hope u dont mind i doodled it fjjfhfjkkfhhsj #asks #my doods #fanfic

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lollytea · 1 year

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How do I say, without coming across as a jaded miserable little bitch who likes raining on everybody's parade, that the PJO Disney plus adaption is nostalgia bait, in the same way that their live action remakes are

#it'll probably be good #it sounds like its gonna be a pretty faithful adaption #im not denying that #but #20-30 something year old you ARE being pandered to by the Walt Disney Corporation #its fine to be excited for it. just so long as we are all aware of whats happening #also we gotta stop acting like mr riordan is some underdog in this situation #hes written one of the most successful teen lit series of all time #and in disney's current quirky girl phase of grasping hold of anything that already has a following #of COURSE they snatched this shit up #''Percy Jackson. A Disneyplus original.''#do you have any idea just how much theyre salivating to have their name attached to this series?#(tbf the books were owned by disney too. but a streaming service makes their link to the franchise all the more evident)#anyway. maybe i sometimes get a little bitter when i think about all the original projects in production that were abruptly cancelled #usually because of the current fear to take risks and put something new into the world #and then i remember adaptions like are going ahead #there is no risk associated the pjo series. the first few books are relatively squeaky clean for a teenage audience #this is a comfortable direction for them to go in #''but but but theres gay people in it'' hush. disney is not afraid of captilizing on the gay experience #also im pretty sure the gay people dont show up until like. 8 books in #thats 8 seasons #can you imagine #''guys we need to keep giving this show our support so we can eventually get solanjello (or whatever its called)''#ooooh theyre quite evil. very interesting #even tho like. dont worry you'll get your gay people eventually. you'll get all your book adaptions. you'll get all those seasons.#this franchise is disneys new pet #you can smell it #the hype. the cast announcements. the promotion #LIN MANUEL MIRANDA???#theyre going to squeeze every last drop of engagement they can get out of it

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whumble-beeee · 23 days

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What's In a Name?

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 8

Content: mentioned past attempted noncon, hysterical whumpee/nervous breakdown (seriously yall, it gets bad), disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, tied up/handcuffs, noncon unshirtening, past captivity references

* * * * * * * *

Excerpt from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters

[While following this guide, as well as generally while playing the wonderful game that is villainy, you will find that the advice can rarely be fitted to every specific scenario. But one piece of advice is universal: If you value your freedom, your loved ones, and your life, you must never reveal your secret identity to your captured hero. As soon as you do, there is no more facade. Villainy is no longer a game. It is your life. And heroes will not hesitate to destroy your life if it means they can win the game.

If a hero (or ANY untrusted party) ever happens upon your secret identity, it is your responsibility, as a villain and as a human being, to accept the end of your life as you know it…

Or to ensure that the hero can never tell another living soul.]

* * * * * * * *

“See you soon?” Deeby repeated Sweater-vest’s last words incredulously. “See you soon?! Christ, and you know he knows– god, he just needs to stop being such un pendejo and shut the hell up, stop making everything about his goddamn god complex and shoving it en las caras de todos–”

The sudden anger from the usually cool and smug Deeby did not help the apparent panic attack seeping ever so quickly into Stan’s consciousness, especially with said seething bounty hunter circling around the room like an angry shark as he muttered to himself and gesticulated wildly.

Stan cowered to hide his shirtlessness from said angry shark. His chest and limbs started to buzz from all the excess oxygen entering his system as he took in heavy breaths, his head spinning, dizzy, hurting, every muscle clenching.

“--y quién se cree ese cabrón para venir a joderme MI TRABAJO?”

He was so angry. So loud, talking so fast, and what the hell was he even saying?! It was too much, too much.

“Y la puta Lana no puede ni aparecer para decirme que me está jodiendo la vida OTRA VEZ porque es lo único que le encanta hacer, joderme TODO lo que–”

Stop it stop it stay calm stay calm please not now please please please not now you can’t show weakness like this in front of your kidnapper you can’t stop it STOP IT–

He took in an involuntary loud heaving breath. Then fell into a stuttering slew of smaller breaths as he tried to keep quiet, and Deeby finally took notice of the state of his captive.

Stan squeaked and pulled the jacket around himself tighter. He was small, he was silent, he was invisible.

Then he gasped in another desperate heaving breath with an involuntary cry of panic when he suddenly ran out of air. He’d stopped breathing entirely with all his efforts.

“Stan? Qué es–... Ah, you good?”

Stan nodded quickly, shaking. “F-fine, fine.”

Deeby raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t lie to me. What is this, you having a panic attack?”

He couldn’t get his eyes to focus, but he shook his head fervently. Then reeled as it made the dizziness and headache so much worse.

“Stan, talk to me, chiquito. If he actually did something to you, tell me. I need a good reason to kill him, you’d be helping me out a lot.”

He didn't actually even hurt me, did he?

“No–! I-I u-uh-uh yes-s-s, but– but–”

I don't WANT to ‘help you out’! I don't want to talk about it! ESPECIALLY not with you.

He let out a whine and failed to swallow the giant knot forming in his throat.

“Alright, is this about the shirt then? Or the uh, the chest thing? Is that why you went from colonizer white to ghost white when you thought I was gonna make you strip earlier?” He walked over to the tattered shirt and scooped it up. “Because if that's what got you, I can assure you I don’t give a single crap what you’ve–... got in your...”

Deeby trailed off as he held up the grey strips of fabric that used to be Stan's button-down.

And just stared.

Stan gawked at the unrecognizable shredded fabric hanging in the bounty hunter's hands. His breath caught in his throat. He hadn't realized how utterly destroyed his beloved shirt was. What was he supposed to wear now?

“That… Motherfucker…” Deeby muttered, almost as as aghast as Stan. “Christ, I knew he'd pull some grade-A bullshit, but this–”

“Y-you KNEW?!” Stan gasped out, surprising himself with the volume of his outburst. “You– You knew he was gonna– gonna try to...”

Deeby didn't look up from the tatters in his hands. “Yeah. He's predictable, if nothing else.”

Stan's entire body felt like it was full of angry bees. “You–... You left me-e alone with ‘im. On pu-urpose.”

“And everything turned out fine, you're fine. Look runt, we need to have a little talk about what–”

“NO!” Stan cried, ignoring the drop in his stomach when Deeby's eyes took on a slight challenging glint at the interruption. “No, don’t change the subject! You left me alone with him! You knew he was gonna try to– to rape me and you left me alone with him! Handcuffed, chained to the floor, powerless, immobile, beat up to hell and– a-and unable to defend myself and you-you left me alone with him!”

The floodgates were opening. The stifling sense of justice suffocating Stan from the inside out wouldn’t let the injustices go unsaid any longer, crashing through his body and just about ready to make him burst. Ironic, given the everything.

Deeby’s jaw set. “Stan. I wouldn’t have left that shit-for-brains alone with anyone if I didn’t have to.”

“Oh, but you– you had to?” Stan taunted, hoping the sarcasm came through in his voice even with the stuttering and heaving breaths. “What, Dee-deeby the great bounty hunter actually answers to someone? Enough to put the uh, the bounty in danger? Or are you just scared of him, wanted to get away?!”

Deeby snorted.

“Hell yeah, I'll do whatever if the buyer asks it,” he proclaimed. "And I'm not scared of that human cringe-fail. The day I'm scared of him is the day I'm dragged away screaming and turned into… well, you, basically. But I mean, that's when he's actually dangerous…"

He seemed to think on it for a moment. Then crouched down in front of Stan, smug grin replaced with something like the look a friend gives when they think you're about to ruin your life with a single dumb decision.

“Honesty, bud… I wouldn't be so tough around a guy like that if I were a guy like you. Best to just fuel his ego.”

Stan physically recoiled. “Don't tell me what–! Who-wh–…”

That insult sounded way too genuine. Since when was the mercenary genuine?

“Wait, wait, you'd…” Stan shook his head, trying to untangle his thoughts from the spaghetti of his mind. This concussion was killing him. He could barely think. “If you were… Who even was th-that?”

Another chuckle. “What, Tweedy? That was Vaughn. He said that earlier, though I applaud your ability to block him out. Wish I could do that.”

Then again, the hunter was most likely just trying to psych him out. Get him to behave again. Stan wouldn't fall for something like that.

“No, idiot, I mean–... I meant who is he? Why is he going to-to see me soon?… And– and for that matter, are you working together? Because it seems like you hate each other.”

Deeby let out a huff of air. “Look, bud, we need to talk about that phone call I had to take, the boss–”

“You're avoiding the question.”

“Well frankly, there's more important things to talk about,” Deeby dismissed quickly. “So I was talking with the boss-lady on the phone while you were–”

“I don’t care about what that Lana person has to say!” Stan said, slamming his hands on the floor for effect, a breath-stealing pang running through his ribs at the jostling. “Jus– Just tell me who you guys are, tell me why I’m here, tell me why I should be scared of ‘a guy like that’! Who ARE you?!”

Deeby narrowed his eyes slightly. “We need to talk about what's going to happen to you next. And you're gonna listen to that. Not yell demands at me like some asshole 6-year-old, because you already know I don't deal with all that ‘who am I, secret identity’ crap, so you're not getting those answers.”

Well actually, judging by the horrible sticky weight that slammed Stan in the gut when Deeby said that, he didn't want to know what horrors awaited him next. So next best thing? Keep being an asshole 6-year-old.

“Why?”

“Anonymity is the most valuable tool you can have in this game.” Deeby recited it like a script, exaggerating a monotone boredom. “Also I'm not an idiot, it's protocol that's saved me before, it helps me do my job without getting invested… take your pick.”

“You're not even wearing your mask any more!” Stan cried. “So much for secret identity!”

“I think what you're meaning to say is ‘thank you for rushing to save my damsel-in-distress ass from some twink with scissors when you heard me screaming for help even though you were dealing with a really important phone call from the worst person ever’. And you're very welcome. Now we need to talk about what I found out in that dumbass phone call and what it means for you.”

He always had an answer for everything, huh? Always another quip.

Stan's blood started to boil, and he may have actually, genuinely growled a little.

“S-so-so so what, you are scared of her, then? You're scared of her and that's why you left me with that monster?!” He tried, spitting back as much smug asshole-ness as Deeby had been throwing at him. “Is that why you hate them, you’re just their damn lackey doing whatever they tell you to do?! Just a puppet for them to guide around, running around capturing supers and serving them up on a silver platter like a good little servant?!”

Deeby stared at him, genuinely stunned by the sudden venom in the captive's words. His fists clenched by his side.

Hm. Stan may have gone too far.

“Look, McKellen,” Deeby spat as he took an authoritative step forward, voice slow, low and dark. “There are things at play here that you can’t know about–”

“Why not?!” Stan felt like he was losing it, voice creaky and high and hoarse. “Obviously I’m gonna be trapped here with you assholes for the rest of my short life until you kill me with some new form of torture experiment bullshit! Why not tell me everything?! Why not do whatever you want with me?! Just tell me! Please!!”

Stan glared desperately at the bounty hunter. He knew he wasn’t even just crossing the line at this point; he was sprinting over the line and stomping on it repeatedly in a panic-fueled frenzy, kicking at it and letting out his full fury as if the line itself had done this to him, as if absolutely decimating the line would somehow fix everything.

Way deep down, almost too far down to admit to himself, he almost hoped the mercenary would see through the insults and the fighting to see the pleading, hurt, scared man underneath. And then take pity. Just let him have this one thing, before he broke entirely.

But the bounty hunter glared right back at him.

“No.” He stated venomously. “Right now, you're going to shut up. And listen.”

As if Stan would ever listen to the orders of his kidnapper. Of a villain.

A small laugh, just a little chuckle, took root his chest. A disbelieving smile cracked across his face.

The absence of the signature unbothered grin, the absence of the mask, the deathly seriousness? Not to mention the gun, the knives, the chains, the handcuffs, the power suppressing collar, no cane or crutch or any viable mobility aid in sight, and beaten so hard multiple times that he probably couldn't run properly anyway even if he did have a knee that actually worked…

This really was hopeless, wasn't it?

He could rage against the dying of the light all he wanted. Scream and shout and cry and fight and say witty things to hide the excruciating, never-ending pain.

But the light would still die all the same.

He clutched Deeby's very own stupid cowboy-ass jacket around his shoulders. He couldn't even defend himself from getting his shirt ripped to shreds right off his body!

And this bitch–

“You– you don't think…” he had to pause to let out a barrage of inappropriate giggles, then shoved up shakily to his feet, back braced against the wall. “You don't still think I'm gonna– that, that I'm gonna escape, do you?!”

Deeby gave pause, eyeing Stan up and down. Really thinking about it. He took a deep breath. A low grumble emanated from the base of his throat.

“No. I don't.”

Stan laughed out again, full force this time. Desperate. Tearful.

“Then just–... just TELL ME!! IT DOESN'T MATTER!! IT DOESN'T!! IT'LL DIE WITH ME!!”

The mercenary's mouth pressed into a thin line. Was that confusion etched into his features? Or worry? Maybe anger…

“It does matter,” He growled through gritted teeth. “It's probably the most important thing you could know, who I am. Who we are.”

Stan let out a loud cry of anguish, screeching out every single frustration at the unfairness of the world, at this situation, at Deeby and Vaughn and whoever Lana was, at the collar and the chains and the cut and bruises and broken bones and his broken, useless knee into a single, guttural sound.

“WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME ANYTIN-GAH-AH!!”

Very, very suddenly, the lapels of Deeby's loosely draped jacket tightened around his body and slammed him back into the wall, the fleece-lined collar of the jacket twisting and pulling on the power-suppressing strap clamped around his neck, contracting it, choking him just as the slam forced all the breath out of his lungs.

Stan clawed back against the force, only managing to grasp at Deeby’s forearms uselessly as they twisted the jacket ever tighter around him. Pinning his arms. Trapping him. He had to heave in and out gasping breaths just to get enough air to breath through his half obstructed airways.

“Look at me, chiquito,” the bounty hunter snarled. “Look me in the eye!”

Stan's panicked eyes paused their sporadic dance around the room. They locked dead onto the mercenary's fiery gaze.

“Did you break your damn brain in the 3 minutes I was gone?” Deeby hissed into his ear. Stan almost screeched in terror. “I don't know what sort of fuckery your mind has been conjuring up that you can't get this very simple concept without going insane,” he jolted Stan and dragged out an involuntary whimper from his throat.

“But whatever it is, shut it down. Now. I'm gonna tell you the bare minimum of what you need to know, and you're gonna sit there and listen or else I won't tell you jack shit and knock you unconscious so I don't have to deal with your bullshit. Agreed?!”

“I– Ah, a-ah, I– No, I- I, no-no no No-o–”

He couldn't get his thoughts to line up properly. They swarmed around his head like locusts in a dust bowl, bouncing into each other, frenzied, an indecipherable cloud of fear and frustration that his horrible attempt at defiance, futile as it may have been, always just made everything worse.

He could never stop himself.

Angry tears rimmed at Stan's eyes. His body hurt. His brain pounded in his skull. His ribs cried out in protest as they pressed into the wall. The various bruises and their dull, throbbing aches, the cuts and bleeding wounds and their sharp, searing screeches, the sticky and caked on dried blood, so familiar now it was almost a second skin, Deeby's weight pinning him to the wall, so similar and yet so different to the way Vaughn had done the same.

No. No, no, no, no.

He squeezed his eyes shut, tears finally falling in hot, fat drops down his cheeks. The bounty hunter was so close, too close. Stan tried to pull away, and he just leaned on him harder, their faces barely inches apart.

“Agreed, chiquito?” The voice rumbled through his entire body, sending shivers up and down his spine.

No no no no no no no he needed to get away, get away now, please please that's all he needed he couldn't get away he couldn't even move his arms he could barely breathe–

“WHY DON'T YOU JUST RAPE ME ALREADY?!” Stan screamed into the endless cacophonous void.

And silence.

And the entire world went still.

Deeby’s mouth fell literally agape.

His grip on Stan loosened considerably. Not out of pity or any other considerate emotion. Just shock.

At least Stan could finally breathe again. Not that he took a single breath in the silence.

“I–...” Deeby finally choked out. “I-I beg you finest fucking what?!”

“Just fucking do it,” Stan hissed, gasping. “We both know you could. I couldn't even stop Vaughn, you think I could stop you?!”

The words spewed out of his mouth faster than he could stop them, like a volcano that had finally exploded its top off in a fiery glory. And the way Deeby looked at him, as if his features were having an all out war over shock, horror, or honestly very justified anger? Oh, that did nothing but fan the flames of Stan's sorrow-filed hysteria.

“Tall ass muscle-bound freak with an actual gun that captured me and beat me up again and again then left me to die?! I don't even know who you are! You can do whatever you want and I can't do jack shit to stop you! Just do it, hurt me, rape me, it doesn't matter! Vaughn knew that, you can too!” Stan attempted to shove the bounty hunter off, but he still didn't move.

“Please, please, I'm begging you, is that what you want?! I'll get on my knees!”

Stan collapsed against Deeby's hold, and to his surprise, Deeby finally let him. Well, not ‘let him,’ more like ‘recoiled and jumped back when he felt Stan collapsing in his grasp'.

All the same.

“Chiquito,” Deeby rasped. “I'm– not exactly sure what or why you're demanding, but I'm not going to–”

“Why not?! It doesn't matter!” Stan assured, holding his arms out to fully present himself now, shedding the jacket onto the floor behind him and taking a daring scoot forward. “I bet you just kicked Vaughn out because you wanted me all to yourself! I bet you just love seeing me scared and helpless and half naked in your stupid fucking yee-yee jacket–”

“Alright, Stan, enough!”

“AT LEAST VAUGHN had the decency to not pretend like he was a decent fucking person like you!” Stan yelled. “We both know you're not above it, fucking professional kidnapper and torturer! So just do it! Like Vaughn wanted to, like he tried to! Finish what he started, you have me all to yourself now! DO IT! DO IT I DARE–”

“The name's Declan.”

The statement was a whisper in the storm. Stan almost missed it. But the resolute certainty of the southern twang stopped him dead in his tracks.

“What–… What did you just–?”

It was astounding how quickly his voice had turned meek from the cacophony of chaos mere seconds before. Dark freckles stood out against an even starker white face than usual.

“It's Declan,” the mercenary stated once more. “My name. My name’s Declan. You wanted t’know who we are, who I am? Fine then, I'm Declan. Want the last name too?”

“I– wait–!”

“It's Cansano. Declan Cansano.”

Stan was shaking, a million thoughts crashing down upon him like a tidal wave. If he weren't already on his knees, surely he would have collapsed.

He hadn't actually… meant any of that. No. Had he? No. He couldn't have. He didn't want to know who the mercenary was. No, he didn't. He didn't, not really! He would never want that! Never!

“That’s not… Wh-why would you…?”

The bounty hunter shrugged. “You wanted to know who I am. You asked, you screamed, you insulted me and you went fuckin’ nuts over it.” His thunder-filled eyes betrayed his completely relaxed demeanor. “Declan Cansano. Don't forget‘t.”

“I just– That's not what– Wait, Deeby, you– Where are you going?!”

Deeby was already halfway to the door when he swiftly spun around, fists clenched and any trace of the easy demeanor vanished in those bright blood-stained eyes.

“I can't fuckin’ deal with you right now!”

Stan nearly launched himself back in fear, right back onto Deeby's stupid, soft jacket. He grasped it up as a barrier between him and the mercenary without even thinking. The mercenary's demeanor relaxed from absolutely terrifying to merely extremely angry at the sorry sight.

“I'm leaving for a bit.” He whipped around and grasped for the lapels of his jacket to yank it on, only for his grasp to come up empty. He whipped around a third time. “And I'll be expectin’ my coat back when I get back! You better've calmed the hell down by then, if you know what’s good for you.”

Wait, wait, he was leaving? No!

Stan tried to scramble after Deeby, but immediately fell to the agony of his knee and the length of his leash.

“Don't go, please!” he pleaded.

Deeby didn’t stop. “Why?”

What if you come back with more torture tools?

What if you don't come back at all?

I still have more questions for you.

You can't just leave me here, I'm hurt!

I shouldn't be alone right now. I can't. I'm scared of what will happen, I'm going insane.

Even you are better than no one at all.

“What– what if Vaughn comes back?!”

Deeby scoffed. “I'm not going that far, damn. Eat some protein bars while I'm gone so you don't die, should help with the insanity. Back soon.”

And the door to the room closed shut behind him, the click echoing off the walls in the sudden unbearable silence.

Stan collapsed to the floor, defeated.

He clutched the jacket closer.

Pulled it tight around his shoulders, fingernails leaving small crescent-shaped indents on the well-worn hide. The cotton lining was so surprisingly soft against his skin. Hell, he could smell the dirt and musk that permeated the jacket from years of use, the smal signs that this jacket had seen the capture of dozens of supers.

Declan.

Declan Cansano.

Professional Superhero-Hunter.

Stan screamed into the endless abyss around him.

And this time, Declan didn’t come back to save him.

* * * * * * * *

#whump #heroes and villains #whump writing #whumper #whumpee #hero whump #defiant whumpee #kidnapping whump #captivity whump #trans whumpee #disabled whumpee #(un)official guide #mentioned noncon #tw nervous breakdown #GOD this one took SO LONG TO EDIT #AND WRITE #its basically unrecogniseable from its first draft bc i just kept having new ideas that fit the themes better #and changing it to help make it make sense #usually it wouldnt be this bad but i wrote it over like 3 serperate weeks in short bursts #so i didnt have any of the usual writing fervor in it at first and the pacing was FUCKED lol #I FINALLY GOT IT THO #its still not perfect but its pretty good and i CANNOT work on this any longer #ALL OF THIS was done on my phone btw. horrible time #would not reccomend #use a computer if you can #anyway ive been thinking about this specific scenario literally since before i started writing the actual story down #it was one of the main story beats #a changing of the tides #theres gonna be a lot of those pretty soon actually

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