#And he has absolutely no idea what she’s talking about | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hyuuukais · 2 days

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⋆.˚𖦹°‧✮‧°𖦹˚.⋆ ERROR 404

pairing ~ yang jeongin x fem reader

synopsis ~ y/n starts getting messages from an unknown number after buying a used phone for cheap. as she finds out more about the boy she's talking to, it turns out there's much more to this than a wrong number --- he died, and she's talking to his spirit, yet he has no idea what happened to him. will y/n have what it takes to solve the mystery of his death? or will the boy's spirit remained trapped in his phone?

warnings ~ gen, drinking

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CH 4 ~ ENERGY (wc: 2.7k, 7 screenshots)

Flipping the open sign to 'closed', you wait for Minho behind the counter. There hasn't been much more communication from him since the last time you talked, only a confirmation of when you're meeting. Changbin made sure to leave before he decides to show up, feeling too uncomfortable facing an old friend. Other than the occasional check-in text from Jeongin, you haven't had much ghostly interaction either, which you think is for the best.

Each interaction so far has taken more and more energy, starting with the man on the bus and then the elderly woman. A headache, then nearly passing out? At this point, you'll end up in the hospital. A chill goes down your spine thinking of that; would it be easier for the ghost to get to you unprotected like that, lying in a hospital bed unconscious and exposed?

The sound of the bell alerts you of Minho's arrival. Adjusting yourself to lean against the counter, you watch him close the door and lock it. When he turns around, he catches your eye and gives you a light nod of acknowledgment. Slowly, he makes his way toward the counter, fingers trailing over an arrangement of pink carnations mixed with greenery. Minho stops, letting a petal fall between his fingers and onto the floor. Shaking his head, he closes the distance between himself and the counter with a couple of strides.

"I don't know if I believe you," Minho says, leaning on the counter; his face is too close to yours. "But I'm willing to try and help. I owe Changbin."

"How so?" You ask, unsure if you'll get a reply when he places his bag on the counter and takes out a sleek laptop.

"Why do you need to know? That's between me and him," Minho doesn't even spare you a glance as he opens the device and starts typing. "What's the kid's name again? Any lead suspects yet?"

"Yang Jeongin and no, not really," You answer with a shrug. "I guess the most notable person is his best friend, Hwang Hyunjin."

"Have you looked into him yet?" Minho's eyes dart up between yours, returning to the screen and starting to type. "Could be something there."

"I don't know-" You're interrupted by a buzz and look down to see a text from Jeongin.

Rolling your eyes, you place your phone face down and focus back on Minho's typing. He's not saying anything, but his eyebrows are knit together in concentration as his fingers fly over the keyboard. Other than the sound of the keys, the flower shop is eerily silent, making you slightly uncomfortable. Ever since this has started up, quiet rooms have you on edge, waiting for the next visit from another spirit.

Minho sighs heavily, stepping away from the screen and pacing in front of the counter. You let him take his time, a hand sitting in his hair showing he must be thinking hard. Hopefully. You'll see in a moment.

"Nothing is showing up," Minho stops in front of his laptop, slamming it shut with the hand not holding his head. "Absolutely nothing, just a warning- error, whatever."

"The same thing happened to me!" You stand up straight, fingertips holding the edge of the counter tightly. "When I found this blog that was talking all about his death, it wouldn't let me read the rest of it and said there was an error! It's like something is stopping us from finding out-"

"Invisible forces?" Minho raises an eyebrow.

"Isn't that the whole thing? Normally, people can't see ghosts. Why do you think probably half the world doesn't believe in them?" You say. "So, yeah, invisible forces."

"Alright, sure," Minho slips his laptop bag into his bag, swinging it over his shoulder. "I'll look into Hyunjin. Goodnight."

"Wait-" As he turns to leave, you call out; he looks back at you over his shoulder. "Would you... could you give me a ride? Being alone right now has me kind of freaked out."

"Won't you be alone at home?"

"Yeah, but it's different," You mumble, looking down at your feet. "It still feels safe there."

Minho hums in response and you don't move.

"Aren't you coming?" He asks after a moment, car keys jingling in his hand.

You lift your head and spot him holding the front door open. Grabbing your bag and jacket, you walk out after Minho and follow him to his car parked down the road. He opens the door for you politely and you step in with a small 'thank you', fiddling with your bag strap as he walks to the other side and lets himself in. The ride to your house is silent, save for the occasional direction from the GPS.

Along the way, you spot a few stragglers out on the streets, one catching your eye when you're stopped at a red light. An uncomfortable feeling washes over you as they keep staring and you shiver, breaking the eye contact and focusing on the road in front of you. When the light turns green, you take one last look and jump. They're right outside your window, the imprint of a hand left on the glass as Minho starts driving again. He gives you a weird look that you miss, too busy trying to learn how to breathe again.

Ten minutes later, you're standing outside your door picking up the keys you just dropped from your hands shaking too much. Minho is stationed outside watching you get in safely, your cheeks flushing from embarrassment when you struggle to get your key in the lock. Switching the light on, you can hear the rumble of Minho driving away and take a deep breath. You're home now, nothing can hurt you here.

Entering your bedroom, you flop face first into your plush bedding and stay like that for a moment. You feel a dip at the end of the bed, but it doesn't freak you out. By now you can tell when it's Jeongin; his presence feels familiar. The bed moves slightly as he adjusts and gets comfortable beside you and you turn your head enough to be able to peek up at him. He's staring straight ahead, hands folded in his lap, and you see he's even kicked his shoes off. Shaggy black hair falls into his eyes and he shakes his head enough to clear his sight, his eyes then falling onto yours- you've been caught.

"Like what you see?" He teases, head rolling to his shoulder to face you completely.

"No," You lie with a grin, propping yourself up on your elbow. "Not at all. Personally, I'm not a fan of having dead people in my bed."

Jeongin laughs at that, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes. You watch him relax, sliding further down into your pillows with a content expression. As much as you want to join him in seemingly falling asleep, you still need to change and wash up. But-

"I gotta go," You say, rolling off the side of your bed.

"What?" Jeongin sits up, hands behind him. "Why?"

"Changbin wants to hang out."

"I thought you were in for the night?" Jeongin's voice goes higher at the end of the sentence.

"Me too! But it's been so long since we've done something fun. Now, which is better? This," You hold a plain black dress up to your body. "-or this?"

You switch the black for a dark red strapless shirt and some black pants and watch his reaction. Although he hesitates, you can already tell he's thinking the second and you toss the dress back toward your closet. After he covers his eyes, you change quickly and do some last touch-ups before leaving the room. Jeongin follows you and you both keep an eye outside for Changbin.

"Be careful, okay?" Jeongin talks low, keeping his eyes on the road when you look over at him. "Lots of energy in those kinds of places, don't need you getting hurt. Especially if you're planning on drinking."

"Are you worried about me?" You tease.

"No, I just don't want you to become one of us before my case is solved."

"Cold."

"Just like my case." This makes you laugh, a light catching the corner of your eye.

Changbin steps out of his vehicle and starts to approach, but you're already waving goodbye to Jeongin and exiting before he can get up the steps to the front door. The night air is crisp, goosebumps forming on your exposed skin, but you're quickly ushered into the warmth of the car. In the window of your house, you can still see Jeongin watching when you drive off. On the way to the bar, you and Changbin sing along to his daily playlist to bring up the mood, and it works incredibly well. By the time you're entering the building, any thoughts of ghosts and death are gone.

Ordering two of the same drink, you and Changbin sit with your backs to the bar and observe the others, making up backstories for each person who passes by you or seems interesting. About four drinks later, Changbin has convinced you to join him on the dance floor. One more drink, and you find yourself surrounded by strangers, distracted by the loud music flowing through your veins. It seeps into your skin and you can feel the beat moving inside you, letting your body take control. In front of you, Changbin shows off his moves and you can hear people cheering, but you know to him it's just the two of you here.

The music slows and so does your body, adrenaline leaving as you brush some hair out of your face. Changbin's expression is all scrunched up in a pout and you laugh at the way he appears to be going in slow motion; it's funny, that is until you notice how everyone around you is following his lead. Panic starts to settle heavy in your chest, turning every direction to try and spot what's causing this.

You sway on your feet as you see the first spirit weaving through the bodies toward you. There's a hole in the center of his head, dried blood crusted down his nose and chin. Moving back to the bar, you stop when you almost hit the chest of someone else; her eyes are dark as she towers over you and you step away. You let your body guide you away, walking turning into a frantic dance to avoid the mass amount of spirits that seem to be mixed with the crowd. The exit isn't too far now, but you seem to be getting sluggish purely from being near this many spirits. You can hear your breathing turn to wheezing as you stumble forward with a hand out, your fingers barely brushing the red handle before someone is wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you away. There's no fight left in you, your eyelids heavy and your body falling limp. Someone is calling your name as you're torn away from whoever is holding you, blurry visions of colourful figures above you being the last thing you see before your eyes flutter shut.

When your eyes open, you don't recognize the room you're in. Dust falls from the ceiling, visible in the moonlight coming through a window above you, white curtains pulled to the side. The bed you're in is much too small for your body, pale blue sheets twisted under your legs. Rubbing sleep out of your eyes, you sit up slowly, a wave of dizziness rocking you. Once it's over, you take in the rest of the room.

It appears to be a child's bedroom, string lights pinned corner to corner emitting a dim gold on the walls. Tucked in the corner is a small desk with art supplies messily organized in compartments, one cup of paintbrushes knocked over with dried paint water soaked into a drawing. You stand and pick up the drawing; there's two boys standing by water, but one has been smudged by the spillage. They seem to be watching something out there, but the drawing is unfinished.

Directly next to the desk is an open door leading into a short hallway. Stairs lead downward with candles melting over the railing, wax dripping onto the wooden steps. As you walk toward the stairs, you can't help but look at all the photos covering the walls. Most are artsy, decorative shots, but one in particular catches your eye. There's a family of four, but the photo is torn at the parent's middle, leaving only the children to be seen holding hands and smiling wide. It's almost unsettling.

Following the pathway, it ends at the doorway to what looks like a living room, but all the furniture is covered in white sheets. You cover your mouth to suppress a noise when you spot a man standing by a fireplace. The sound of your hand slapping over your mouth must have alerted him, his head whipping around to look at you.

"What are you...?" He's turning fully now, head tilted to the side and eyes squinting. You have to hold in another gasp when you realize it's Hyunjin you're looking at.

"I don't know," you reply quietly, bringing your hand back to your side. "I've never been here before. I don't know where I am."

"You shouldn't be able to get in here. You-" He stalks toward you and grabs your wrists, bringing you into the room with him.

You watch his eyes widen as the moonlight hits you, eyebrows knitting together and mouth falling open slightly. The grip on your wrists is bruising, and he gives no sign of letting go. There's a shift in the air and he looks away from you and past your head, eyes narrowing at something in the space behind you.

"Back off," He warns, and you're almost too scared to know what he's seeing. "Stay right there."

His voice wavers, hands finally loosening and you're able to pull away completely. This, however, is a mistake. Hyunjin is reaching for you again with a shout of your name as hands grab you from behind, tearing you away from the room, the house, this whole place.

With a gasp, you sit up in a hospital bed, lights blinding you. Someone is touching you, trying to calm you, but you fight them off; you've had enough of peoples skin on yours. Head in your hands, you take deep breathes and notice just how badly you're shaking. You hadn't even realized you were crying until now.

"Y/n! It's just me-" Changbin's voice is clear beside you now that you're a bit more adjusted. "Hey, it's just me. You passed out."

"What?" You finally let him settle you back against the stiff pillow. "I did?"

"Yeah, and I think it's ghost related, but I don't know," Changbin shifts in his chair uncomfortably. "Jeongin's been blowing up your phone."

He hands you the small device and you unlock it to see he's right, Jeongin has been blowing up your phone.

Jeongin replaces Changbin, sitting in the chair with his legs crossed at the ankles. Neither of you talk, but he does stare at you with concern visible on his face. You lay down on your side, keeping your eyes on him as you get comfortable, or at least as much as you can be. There's a moment when he opens his mouth, but a nurse comes into the room to check on you before he can say anything. She explains you'll be able to go home soon, just rest for now.

When she leaves, you sigh. "I wish I never left my bed."

"Me too," Jeongin admits quietly, a faint blush of red creeping up his neck and you giggle.

The energy with him is so different than other spirits and you can't understand why. With him, it's warm, easy; It's not draining or unwelcoming in the slightest. Being with him feels nice, like a dream you don't want to leave.

Jeongin follows you out of the hospital, into the cab they provide, and back into your home. He waits outside of your bedroom as you change, opening the door to let him back in. Crawling into bed, you catch a glimpse of Jeongin next to you. This is the first time you've seen him look so unguarded since you've met, so peaceful, and you drift into sleep thinking of him.

notes ~ this is unedited bc it's 2:30 am and i'm tired so pls ignore any mistakes lol

taglist ~ @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @bloomingstay @sona1800

@dollschan @defnotfertilizedtoesw @thisisnotjacinta @kayleigh-28 @kayleefriedchicken

@lailac13 @linocvp1d @ilov3jeong1n @mooseung @kkamismom12

reply or send an ask to be added (18+)^^^ green means i can't tag you

#⋆.˚𖦹°‧✮‧°𖦹˚.⋆ ERROR 404 #skz #stray kids #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x fem reader #yang jeongin #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #yang jeongin fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz series #yang jeongin series #smau #partial smau #non idol au #i.n x reader #i.n x fem reader

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miller-n-morgan · 18 hours

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And I Feel Fine (.ii)

Joel Miller x Jackson!Reader

18+, mdni

Summary: A new journey lies ahead, and on the very first night you become sure of something that will completely change the trajectory of your entire future.

Warnings: leaving most of the warnings the same because they apply. mentions of death, violence, gore, blood, mentions of sex abuse and trafficking. Mentions of teenage pregnancy. Mention of drugs and substances. Again, literally has ✨️the works.✨️

Word Count: 7k (i'm going absolutely wild)

Now we're cookin'.... enjoy this slice of my brain that I spent entirely too long on. And also know that the first part of the Arthur Morgan series will probably drop this week.

“I ain’t shittin’ you.” You were fine to leave it at that, but he sure as hell wasn’t. For a guy that hated long conversations, he seemed to like poking around in your business. “And what makes you think that?” You honestly didn’t want to tell him. He’s not Tommy, he might make fun of you, might store away the information later on and use it against you. You have no idea, actually. You don’t know him.

Your contact had gotten you to an apartment. It was worn down, just as every other place in the QZ seemed to be, but it was better taken care of. The people living here must have been attentive about the appearance of their home. A good enough family to leave your baby with.

She stopped you in the hallway, knocking three times on the old wood door, hearing a lively voice from the otherside before it opened. The woman standing there was lovely, about thirty or so, a half smile on her face when she saw you both had arrived. This plan had been in the works for some time now.

“Hello, I’m Maxine Williams,” she greeted, reaching for your hand to shake. You did your best to match her kind and infectious energy, giving her a smile in return. She is after all going to be doing you the favor of a lifetime.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you replied, keeping your head low between your shoulders, though you felt comfortable in her presence.

She leaned into your contact, turning her head, but you heard the whisper “She’s so young…”

“S’why she needs help.”

You understood that this didn’t look right. You should not be pregnant at your tender age, should not have been put in this position. You’ve seen more horrific things than any person ever should, and it all started when you were eight… outbreak day.

“Of course… come in, both of you.”

The pleasantries went on for a while, exchanging information of where you came from, why you were in this area, what you did before being in Boston. She mentioned her husband, her two sons and their love for older things, wishing for the world the way it was. It was all just small talk, leading up to the actual conversation topic: the baby she was about to take off your hands.

“You’ll stay with us until the birth, if that’s okay,” she offered, but it sounded more like a demand. It wasn’t a harsh or cruel one. Even if you slept on the rickety couch you were lounging upon now, it would be better than camping in the woods, sleeping on the hard ground like you’d been doing only a month ago.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

Your contact was happy to see both ends so receptive. She’d never seen a deal containing human life go down this smoothly. Probably because this was a bit more sensitive of an exchange.

“Good… that’s good. I’ve heard you’re interested in a closed adoption?”

You glanced down at your stomach, feeling the weight of it, crushing inwards on the rest of your body. Having this baby and giving it away will relieve the weight both physically and metaphorically. They’ll be in good hands, better than your own could ever be.

“I think it’s probably best. I used to have siblings, but I never really took care of them… I’m not sure I could do this,” You shook your head. You saw her younger son peeking his head out of the bedroom door in the corner, backing away as soon as you caught him. Even in an apocalypse, a child can be happy… just not with you. “I want to give them their best chance.”

“I understand… and we’re going to do our best to make sure they have a normal childhood,” she responded, leaning forward and placing a comforting hand on your knee.

“Thank you…”

You had sat down on one of the containment units, feeling as though the adrenaline rush from the ambush was beginning to wear off. Tommy found Maria not far away from where you were sitting, and began to ask his special favor. It was crazy, he knew it, you knew it… but it had to be done. This girl was somehow important, to the fireflies and to all of mankind, and you were starting to wonder why. Joel hadn’t said a word, sitting across from you and awaiting the news that would surely come from his brother’s discussion with his wife.

“So, you’ve been traveling with Ellie?”

He looked up at you from his boot laces, his eyes were heavy, and he didn’t seem in the mood to talk. He was grumpy in nature, but you could tell there was more underneath the tough exterior.

“I have.” And no further explanation was given.

You didn’t think it was best to keep trying your luck, keep on asking him questions. He wasn’t the talking type and you figured you’d be wasting your time… but speak of the devil, Ellie came up to him just as the conversation between Tommy and Maria was getting heated.

“What’s that all about?” She nodded in their direction. She looked scared, like a deer caught in headlights, just not as frozen. Wide eyed and unable to look away from the scene. “Does that have anything to do with me?”

She was smart, she’d pick up on the words they were saying - more like yelling - to each other. The context clues were there, Joel would have to be an idiot to think she’d just let him off the hook.

“We’ll talk about it later…” he grumbled, his annoyance already at a high from your unimportant questions and the fighting in the background.

“Did he tell you where the lab is?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowing as she got even closer to hear them.

The lab? Is that where the fireflies would be? You vaguely remember the days you spent with the resistance group, but you don’t remember anything about a lab…

“We’ll talk about it later,” he repeated himself, almost as a warning.

She turned to Tommy and Maria, then back to Joel, her face one of distrust and sadness. She knew, she could tell. Joel was trying to get rid of her.

You wanted to say something, to jump in and tell her that she didn’t need to be scared, didn’t need to be worried about where she was going. That you would go with her and it would be okay… but that wouldn’t help a damn thing. Even if you turn out to be her biological mother, you are most definitely not her mom, and cannot console her as one.

“Later… right,” she trailed, backing away from Joel and off to another sectional of the checkpoint.

Joel looked back to you, your eyes already on him.

He sighed, at first not saying a word… but when he made a full rotation of his eyeline and you were still staring holes into him, he had to speak up.

“If you’re lookin’ to judge me, then just-.”

“I’m not.”

Your interruption cut him off, and he didn’t really know what else to say. He nodded, not looking away from you, but rather trying to figure out what it is you needed from him. Your stare was not discomforting but it felt demanding. It wanted something.

“How long have you known her?” You finally spit out, tucking a leg under your elbow as you sat back. You knew you’d gotten his attention, now.

“Few months, now. I’m supposed to take her to the fireflies as a favor to someone.”

“What do the fireflies want with a fourteen year old kid?”

He sighed, raising his shoulders in a shrug like he didn’t know. He must’ve been lying, right? You’d gotten pretty good at reading people, but for some reason you couldn’t tell with him. Maybe you just didn’t know him well enough…

“M’not really sure. All I knew in the beginning was that I could get paid pretty well, so I took her.”

You nodded. He didn’t seem like the person that did things for the sake of them, Tommy had told you stories about him, the things he used to do. If it was for his survival, he’d do it… but just for the sake of getting paid? When barely anything left had real monetary value? It sounded like bullshit.

“She seems to trust you an awful lot,” you gestured between him and the empty space she’d left.

There was another beat of silence, to which he didn’t use for reply. Instead he sat, his back curled over and his shoulders sunken inwards. He was tired, he was worn. He needed to rest, but this life wouldn’t let him.

“She knows you’re handing her off…”

“I reckon she does, yeah.”

And right over your shoulder you heard the climax of Tommy and Maria’s argument. She held a pointed finger in his face, before he finally insisted on Joel’s plan. She couldn’t move him. He was going to do this whether she liked it or not… which is something you haven’t seen out of Tommy for years. Joel must mean a hell of a lot to him, to up and leave Maria on a dangerous errand like this.

You stay seated when Maria walks over to Joel, and then when Joel stands up to talk to Tommy. You stay seated and think… I can keep Tommy safe. I’ve got nothing to lose, and everything to gain from learning about this girl. I can bring him home to Maria, even if it means my life.

But you immediately stand when you hear Tommy’s rapid speech. “That girl of yours. she took one of our horses and rode off,” and then he glanced at you with an eyeroll. “She took provoker…”

You huffed a sigh, following the men over to the front of the sectional, the open trail up ahead. Maria was mad at Tommy, so obviously she wouldn’t be accompanying them… and that left you. Casper didn’t like men.

“Damnit, which way?” Joel asked, his steps were heavy on the muddy ground.

“I just saw her riding out of here!” Terry yelled, loosening the reins on two more horses he’d brought over for assistance.

“Alright, get back inside, help the others clean the place up,” Tommy told the man, nodding for you to mount the back of his horse after he’d climbed up himself. You chanced a look at Joel, riding across from you both. His face was mixed with anger and determination, and it reminded you of what Tommy looked like after hours of hunting. They were the epitome of brothers, though you’d never met the other half before.

You all followed the tracks, leading every which way it seemed. Some of the tracks were fresh, and some were older, but it was hard to tell when the grounds here were moist all the time, never really drying up and creating lasting prints on the dirt.

After a while of riding, and running into some raiders - who were easily fended off - you saw your horse standing in front of an old farmhouse, the reins tied to a pole holding up the roof of the porch. You jumped from Tommy’s mare and ran up to Casper, petting his mane and making sure he was alright. There didn’t seem to be a scratch on him.

You watched Joel enter the house, waiting back with Tommy. Even though Joel was the one she ran away from, you couldn’t imagine she’d be thrilled to see you or Tommy instead. Joel had a good reason to do what he did. He didn’t feel strong enough or fast enough for this job anymore. He didn’t feel like he could keep her safe. You unfortunately understood that feeling a little too well, and if you were correct on your suspicions, it would have been with the exact same kid.

Tommy unstrapped his gun from his back, holding it steady and watching the surroundings whilst he leaned against the porch beam you were standing by. He was trying to gage whether or not your horse was calm enough for him to approach you closer, knowing what would happen if he wasn’t.

“I think you’re right, you know…” He trailed, his voice quiet on the off chance of an open window.

“You do?”

You turned to him, you didn’t exactly have to think twice about what he meant.

“Yeah,” he nodded, a chuckle falling from his lips. “It makes sense… the timing n’ everything. She looks a hell of a lot like you… and she’s caused about as much trouble today as the first time I met you.”

“Causing trouble is genetic?” You laughed, your eyes watering a bit at the implications he made. She might be yours. Your daughter, who you didn’t think you’d see again.

“Hell, it might be. Your kinda trouble, anyway… stealin’ horses and shit.”

The nod of your head was slow, the thought of this all sinking in. It made perfect sense and yet coming to terms with the facts of ‘it is’ instead of ‘it could be’ makes you feel light headed.

You didn’t know if he was being serious or if he was just trying to make you feel better, but the look on his face told you the former. He wouldn’t just lie to you, he knew you could read him.

“I keep turning it over in my head, tryin’ to think of ways I could prove it to myself… I think just seein’ her was enough for me. I’m remembering things I thought I forgot about a long time ago.”

Now it was his turn to nod, but your moment was caught short when you heard a branch snap around the corner. You instinctively pulled your gun from your pants, holding it out in the direction the snap came from. Tommy raised his rifle, doing the same and gesturing for you to go inside. You both made it in the doorway before the threat made itself known. Two guys, coming around the corner. They hadn’t realized you were watching them yet, but they did a quick scan, making sure there wasn’t any immediate danger.

“Get upstairs,” he said in a whisper, but you snapped your head to face him.

“No way, the odds are even if I stay,” you argued, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood for a fight right now. It was too risky to have you both down here.

“Go tell Joel to get his ass down here, you stay up with the kid.”

“Like hell I’m going up there. Your brother scares me,” you say in a half joking mumble, keeping watch on the two strangers that were now surrounding your horse. They were about to get kicked in the ass if they didn’t step away.

Tommy realizes that them being distracted gives a good amount of time to leave without cover.

“Alright, but you first,” he shrugged a shoulder towards the staircase, and with one last glance to your horse, you left your corner by the window.

You quickly ran up the stairs, ducking a head in a few rooms before finding the one Joel and Ellie were in.

“Get it together, we’re not alone,” Tommy said as soon as you got inside the door.

“I got two walking in,” Joel leaned towards the sliding window to get some eyes on the situation.

“There’s more inside already…”

You backed against the door, Tommy against the dresser on the opposite side. Joel stepped over in front of you, and Ellie behind Tommy. You didn’t realize until now, but taking a glance at Ellie, she looked even worse than when she left. Her face was sullen and her head was dropped. She didn’t seem to be snapping into reality, even with the weight of the situation.

You stayed by her throughout the house, when Tommy and Joel started shooting, you stood in front of her, covering them from back behind. It was weird, these maternal feelings that had never sparked within you before, only now arising for this specific human that had no clue who you were.

Once outside, it seemed strange. The dynamic between the four of you was so incredibly awkward. Everyone was thinking on a different topic, and the silence could echo on for miles. You nodded for Ellie to mount the back of your horse, since she didn’t seem comfortable to ride with Joel for the time being. She climbed up behind you and for a second you smiled, because this is your daughter, you know it… but soon after, your mind quickly succumbed to the general silence.

The nature and scenery surrounding you seemed to be duller than before, the pretty autumnal colors becoming ugly in the sense that you didn’t appreciate them right now. You loved the beginning of fall, but the feelings spread among you are tense and terrible, worse than raking up the fallen leaves before winter.

The feeling never leaves, it stays until you all reach the edge of the town.

“I’m not hungry,” you swore, shoving the extra plate of food away from your placemat.

Manxine’s husband was hungry, and you’d noticed him and his wife being decent enough to give you some of their food the past few days. It wasn’t necessary, because you weren’t working, and you weren’t barely helping them. They were helping you, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Taking extra food that wasn’t just lying around felt like stealing. You’d never been a stranger to it before, but these people were far too kind, too gentle. They made you feel like maybe the world wasn’t completely at its end. It still turned, and people were still good, despite everything.

“Yes you are, and you should be,” Maxine pushed the plate back in front of you. Her goal had been to ‘put a little meat on your bones’ as long as you were under her roof.

“I’m fine, I promise.”

“Promise or no promise, you need to eat more. You’re still too thin to try and survive childbirth, ya hear?” She put the old fork back into your open hand, and you sighed. It was sometimes hard to eat more than you normally did, on the account of your body not being used to it. If you ate more than usual would it make you sick? If you threw up the extra rations they were spotting you, you’d feel terrible, but she kept insisting.

You opened your mouth to take a bite, swallowing it down and feeling the slight discomfort start to settle. Already you’d been eating a lot more than before the QZ, and you didn’t realize how slowly your appetite would have to grow.

After a few more bites you had to drop the fork to your plate, feeling too full already to keep on. You felt terrible, refusing extra portions that were meant to keep you healthy. Whether or not it was caused by the pregnancy hormones, or just your own emotional breakdown, you weren’t sure… but you started tearing up while sitting at the table.

“I’m sorry,” you shook your head, covering your mouth and sitting back while the tears rolled down.

“Don’t you apologize, sweetheart,” Maxine uttered softly, her presence at your side immediately.

To her, none of this effort was wasted, or overdone. She and her husband, though some of the better off people in the QZ by job merritt, couldn’t seem to have another baby. It wasn’t for the lack of trying, or stress that they couldn’t afford it. It was simply the fact that after six years from their last child, they couldn’t conceive another. This baby, your baby, was going to be a gift to them. They were happy to take any necessary steps into getting you to childbirth.

“I just can’t eat anymore,” you tried to justify your emotions, but now it only looked like an overreaction. People are dying without food, and here you are, crying about there being too much.

“It’s alright. Leftovers don’t go to waste in this house,” she spoke, a bit of a chuckle in her tone, which alleviated some of the pressure you felt.

“Okay,” you nodded, letting her take your plate to the other room, likely where her husband had retired to.

The campfire was crackling, the smoke filling the hazy navy color of the dark sky. Trees had covered it mostly, but there were a few stars peaking here and there. You’d just finished a can of chicken soup, tossing it on the pile that had been started by the others. It was crazy, how you suddenly remembered so much, just by eating food out of a can again. Days on the run, with the fireflies, being a raider even… it all came back.

It had only been a few hours or so since leaving Jackson, but after the fiasco of today, the three of you had gotten extremely tired a lot earlier than you should have.

The three of you meaning: Yourself, Joel and Ellie.

After the silence of the horse ride back to the commune, something had changed. Joel realized not only what Ellie meant to him, but what he means to Ellie. He’d decided Tommy was no longer required, and that he could fare the journey on his own. Of course, you immediately volunteered an extra pair of hands and a quick gun as assistance. To your surprise, it was Ellie who was your greatest advocate. Her, and the fact that you remembered the lab’s location, could probably get her there on your own if you had to.

The mirror building… you don’t remember it being a lab, but as soon as Tommy said the words it jogged your memory.

Now you were here, sitting with your back against a log, and staring holes into the shoulder of a fourteen year old girl.

“Whatch’u lookin’ at?” Joel asked, his arms crossed over his chest as he lazily reclined against a tree.

You only looked away for a second, too fixated on what was just barely peeking over the collar of Ellie’s shirt and jacket. It had fallen down a bit when she laid down to sleep.

“Nothin’,” you shrugged it off. He was a man of few words, surely he’d drop it on account of having to speak more if he didn’t… but God help him, he’s like a damn cat, his curiosity could kill him.

“You’re very focused on nothin’,” he teased. There was something off about you with Ellie, he’d taken notice of it. He didn’t know what it was about but it didn’t seem like a danger.

You rolled your eyes over to him, but could tell by his glance back that he wouldn’t quit. He’d already volunteered to take the first watch, and he had nothing else better to do.

“It’s a long story, you’d get bored.”

But again, he had nothing better to do.

“Try me,” he raised his shoulders in a shrug of his own. He seemed much more docile of a creature in this setting. The early hours of night, so quiet, and dimly lit. His voice was gentle and his features were soft. He was relaxed.

You took a deep inhale, trying to brace yourself for whatever came of this. He was a fresh face, someone new to explain an old wound to. The scar had finally healed and you were about to dig a blade back through and rip it open… but you suppose you’d sharpened the knife by coming along in the first place.

“I think Ellie’s my daughter,” you breathed out, not checking for a reaction until he’d been silent too long. His eyes were narrow, and he tilted his head, looking between you two. She was fast asleep by now, but he had a picture of her in his head, comparing it to you.

“You’re shittin’ me, right?”

You blew out another long breath, shaking your head and rolling your eyes. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know this feeling you have or the fact that you’ve never felt it before. He doesn’t understand that you’d come to peace with the fact that you’d never see her again, and then she appeared like a ghost from your past. You thought she was your past self at first, taunting you, making fun of who you were now.

“I ain’t shittin’ you.”

You were fine to leave it at that, but he sure as hell wasn’t. For a guy that hated long conversations, he seemed to like poking around in your business.

“And what makes you think that?”

You honestly didn’t want to tell him. He’s not Tommy, he might make fun of you, might store away the information later on and use it against you. You have no idea, actually. You don’t know him.

You let your eyes flick up to the stars, hoping by some miracle they will fall from the heavens in the form of angels to give you a message, that message being: shut the fuck up and don’t spill your guts to a man you met this morning.

“When I was thirteen, I was by myself. I fell into a weird group of people that could probably be considered a cult. There was this one guy that treated me better than the others…” you trailed off, not sure if you’re ready to rehash all of this. But it’s been a long time since you talked about it. You need to get it off your chest if you’re to somehow make a relationship with the product of your past. “He was in his twenties, so a lot younger than most people in the group. Pretty sure I was the youngest. I didn’t realize he was using me.”

Joel was tense, but not because he was uncomfortable… he was genuinely invested. Wanted to know this story and how it connected with Ellie. His Ellie.

“We left the group, and I found out I was pregnant a few months later. I’d barely had my cycle a fucking year… wasn’t even sure what it meant when I didn’t get it. Anyways,” you had to stifle a laugh, because just looking back… what the actual hell? You kept blinking to make sure no tears escaped in front of this man. You weren’t there yet with him. “I think he just lost all interest in me after that. He didn’t really speak to me unless it was necessary, and wouldn't look at me. Stuff like that.”

But that wasn’t the worst part, and Joel knew you were working your way up to it.

“Before I was pregnant I used to sneak into places most people couldn’t. I was real skinny like that. Was able to smuggle stuff in and out of different QZs across the country. We peddled rare narcotics for the most part… but I had to stop when I, you know…” you made a round hand motion around your stomach, hoping he got the jist. “I didn’t fit in the smaller spaces.”

“What kind of narcotics?” Joel finally asked a question, and it wasn’t really the one you were hoping for… but you understood he’d probably fallen into the same scheme over the years.

“Vicodin, mostly. Up in Princeton there was this one apartment… we’d searched it top to bottom because of how many secret hiding places there were. Vicodin everywhere. Whoever lived there was either severely addicted or preparing for the worst.”

“Maybe both.”

Yeah, probably. Damn shame he never got to use them.

“We used it as a trading token most of the time. It was actually what got us into Boston,” you waved off your tangent eventually, getting back to the story and where Ellie came in. “Pretty much gave the rest of our stash to a contact we had there… she got us a family we could hand the baby off to.”

And now he got it. You’d been knocked up by a predator, and said predator wanted you to give up the baby so he could go about using you some more. He’d seen and done some cruel things in a post apocalyptic world, but he would never stoop that low, and grimaced at anyone who possibly could.

“I had her when I was fourteen. Lookin’ at her today was like looking in a mirror,” you rambled on, still not quite to your point. “She’s the right age, from the right location… and that birthmark on her shoulder…”

He hadn’t even noticed it all this time. Months with the kid, and he thought nothing of it. But to you, it was clarification. It was the confirming piece of evidence that pulled it all together. You’d barely taken your eyes off of it since you saw it. You wanted to make sure you weren’t seeing things. Wanted to make sure it was the right shape and placement, just so you could be sure.

He nodded, seemingly coming to this conclusion now, too. It didn’t take him any more convincing. It was clear by now that your hunch was not just a hunch.

“Her dad, he still… around?”

You shook your head with a light hearted laugh.

“No,” and you could have left it with that simple answer… but that was never much your style. “I shot him in the head.”

His low whistle cut the air, and you almost felt proud. You’d killed the one thing in life that ever hurt you directly.

“He deserved worse.”

“Yeah, he did.”

And then it was quiet for a minute, all the words the two of you had spoken up until now were rotating over and around in your heads to make sense of them, until he spoke up again.

“I’m sorry,” he nearly whispered.

“S’okay. Not your fault…” you shook it off. It’s in the past, it’s done.

“Not yours either,” he replied, raising a brow to you. “M’just, sorry you went through that.”

He was soft, he was gentle. You supposed he was like Tommy. He didn’t judge you or make you feel inferior because of your tragic mishappenings. He just listened, and felt sympathy.

“I don’t mind it so much now… I got her back.”

And both your gazes shifted to the sleeping teenager, her breaths steady with the humming of the night around you. She has no clue, and for now you’ll have to keep it that way.

Yeah, you think… I got her back.

It only took two weeks. Riding, eating, sleeping, and talking, rinse and repeat. There was the odd occasion of dealing with infected, but they were never in large groups, and cleared out easily.

You remembered exactly where to go when you entered the city limits, guiding them towards the college campus you once lived in as a firefly. It was almost ten years ago, but you remember it pretty well. It’s where you met Tommy. Not in the lab, obviously. You’d both been put on security detail one morning, having never met beforehand. He proceeded to ‘teach you’ how to shoot a rifle properly, only to find you could hit a perfect bullseye on your first shot. Probably because your dad was a man who loved his guns, and you’d been shooting one since you were a kid before the outbreak. He laughed about it, and you two were friends ever since.

“Are you getting any of this?” Ellie asked you, pulling you from your thoughts as you rode alongside them.

For the last hour, Joel was attempting - and failing - to explain the rules of football to the young Miss Ellie. And she didn’t understand one lick of it, not that you blame her. You’d been to actual football games in your youth, but you couldn’t get it even then.

“Nope, I was always more of a baseball fan…” you trailed, and smiled at the thought. Baseball was fun, you remember it well. It was your biggest obsession right before ballet, and right after fingerpainting.

“Oh really, now?” Joel cut in, his surprise evident in his raised eyebrow and tilted gaze in your direction.

“Yep. You’re looking at the MVP of the Acorn’s jr. little league team.”

Ellie laughed. She didn’t know a thing about baseball either. She’d seen some old collectors cards though here and there. Apparently they used to be valuable. They were only knick knacks to anyone who saw them now.

“What position did you play?”

“Shortstop… or second base, technically. No shortstop in jr. little league,” you admitted. Your dad always called you shortstop, so that’s what you tell people now. Anyone who asks, at least. You can count on one hand the number of people who have.

“Seein’ you around infected… I bet you swung like hell,” he chuckled. Ellie was still confused about the rules of the last sport, much less how to play this one… but she listened intently because Joel was interested, so she was interested too.

“I always got on base, didn’t always stay there, but always got on. Plus, I was the only kid who never picked their nose at the plate, so… Obviously I earned my title.”

“That must’ve been an amazing accomplishment. How old were you?”

From what he understood, you’d been eight on outbreak day. You couldn’t have been too much younger to have started a sport, right?

“Probably six or seven at the time. I did ballet after, had kind of a short attention span when it came to after school activities,” you explained, a smile on your cheeks when you spoke about the things you used to love doing. You probably would still like doing some of them, had they been an option in Jackson.

“I know about ballet!” Ellie jumped in, nearly scaring Joel off the horse. “That’s the dancers that used to wear those weird shoes and shit.”

“Pointe shoes?” You chuckled, more at Joel trying to compose himself than Ellie’s funny recollection of footwear.

“Yeah, those. They looked like torture devices in some of the paintings I saw… did you ever wear any?”

“No, I would have had to train for about five more years to have gotten to that point. That was the dream at the time, to be a pointe ballerina. Of course, the end of the world happened…”

Joel turned to you from his forwards facing stare, a sadness in his eyes before he looked back onto the road ahead of him. Was that… pity? You were slowly learning to read him, his little mannerisms and tells that made him like everyone else, yet just a tad different, in a way that only he could be.

“Maybe after all this is over you can teach me some steps,” she suggested, but you scoffed.

“Maybe,” you shook your head at how funny the thought sounded in your head. You’d only danced for what? Ten months at most? And as an eight year old? “I think you’ll probably be too busy with Joel’s guitar lessons.”

She laughed it off, shaking her head and leaning it back onto Joel’s shoulder in front of her. The three of you kept along until reaching the building you remembered, but instantly it was a disappointment. The fireflies weren’t here, and likely hadn’t been for over a year.

“This isn’t right. There should be a checkpoint set up and a security blockade surrounding the place,” you mentioned, getting off your horse and running up to the door in the front. You peeked inside, and there was no sign of life anywhere.

“You’re kidding,” Ellie grumbled.

Joel dismounted the horse and followed after you, looking around and trying to find any signs that they might have been here at all.

“You sure this is the right place?”

“Positive. I remember this building, I met Tommy right over there,” you pointed down the sidewalk, where a half torn down barricade of cement was still sitting, but just barely. You walked to the corner of the crumbling stairs and grabbed a piece of old broken up brick, chucking it through the front door in order to unlock it.

Joel chuckled for a moment at your frustration, watching the scene play out.

“Baseball… right,” he teased, leading the way inside with you and Ellie in tow.

Maxine’s boys were at Fedra school. Her husband was at work in a different sector. Maxine herself was trading ration cards for supplies. It was the first time she’d left the apartment since you’d been there, and of all days, of all mornings for it to happen… your water broke.

You were alone, and scared. You weren’t allowed to leave the apartment for fear of the neighbor’s suspicion. Maxine’s family would be torn apart by Fedra if anyone found out what was going on, so no matter how terrified you were, you couldn’t risk going outside for help.

“Not now,” you cried, the tension in the pit of your stomach slowly turning to pain when your first contraction started. “Please, kid, I’m begging.”

You suck down against the wall of the living room, trying to find a sitting position that doesn't kill you from the pain. You wished more than anything you had some of those pain pills left over from the exchange, but they would probably only hurt you right now.

“Please, don’t,” you tried to even your breathing, the tears crawling down your cheeks at a fastening rate. “I can’t do this…”

The walls were closing in, you weren’t prepared for this. It didn’t seem to be the right time, either… but it was happening, and there was absolutely nothing you could do to stop it. The baby was coming, and if you wanted to live to see another day, you were going to have to get your head straight, and push it out of you.

You didn’t know how long you’d have, but from the time your water broke to the last contraction, things were moving relatively quickly. You were still on the ground against the wall, biting down on the sleeve of your shirt to try and not make noise.

You hoped and prayed that you would not deliver this baby on your own, but it looked like that was your only option right now. They had all left around an hour ago, they would be gone all day.

“I don’t know what to do, kid… help me out here,” you cried out again, but the baby didn’t exactly listen. You felt more weight bearing down on your lower half by the minute, and all you could do was panic.

It had happened so fast, the attack. Too fast, nothing you guys could have prepared for. It was all within minutes, and the ringing in your ears following your last gunshot seemed to put everything in slow motion. The way Ellie was yelling but you couldn’t hear it, the man that was coming up from behind you, and the one that was wrestling with Joel near the edge of the rail.

Too fast, the man on your rear grabbed at you and pulled backwards, keeping you from being able to stop Joel’s attacker… You got trapped in a headlock, a gun to your temple, and another man was about to get Ellie. Joel and his attacker broke through the railing, tumbling over the edge and falling into God knows what. You sunk deadweight in the man’s arms, letting Ellie shoot him with her raised gun before you shot the man coming for her.

She ran to the edge first, freezing as she looked down. You followed and peered over, unsure what you would see.

“Shit,” you lowered yourself to a sitting position before scooting off the edge and dropping down to where he was. Your voice was in a panic “Joel?”

He was alive, but fatally injured if you didn’t get him out of here right now.

“I’m gonna need you to pull,” he managed to get out through gritted teeth. His face was scrunched in pain, and you knew better than anyone how hard it was to stay quiet when you’re hurting that bad.

“You could bleed out,” you shook your head, kneeling down and flinging off your backpack. Digging through, you only have the most basic of supplies… nothing substantial enough to stop mass amounts of blood, or, worst case scenario, a deadly infection.

“Just pull, damnit,” he grunted, offering his hand.

By now Ellie had come down, watching in fear as the only figure of importance in her life was nearly on his deathbed. It couldn’t be exaggerated because it really was that bad. He could drop down at any moment and never get back up, but he kept pushing on.

You did as he asked, hoisting him to a stand, letting him lean on you for support. Ellie went on ahead, leading the way as she cleared the place with her own gun. You had to assist here and there, unwilling to let Ellie get shot on account of holding Joel up on his feet.

It was practically a miracle that any of you made it outside. Your horse had already taken care of a raider, it seemed, the man lying unconscious on the ground behind him. He likely got to close, touched him, even. Ellie shot the last obstacle standing between you and an escape, and once he was cleared, you mounted your horses, helping Joel onto his, first.

You rode in front of them, looking for a place to take shelter. Looking for an empty house, or gas station even. Anything would work, as long as it was safer than here. You rode for miles down the road, unsure if there were people in the area. You’d finally reached a neighborhood of substantial size, with no signs of life or proof of human activity.

But before you could even find a safe shelter…

“Joel? Joel!”

And you quickly turned around. Joel fell off the horse, out like a light.

Tags: @orcasoul

#joel miller #reader insert #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #the last of us #joel

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lover-of-mine · 2 days

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i'm freaking out because someone who watched the episode in the media was asked if after the episode will their be new buddie theories and she said she already has one but won't reveal it till after the episode. Which you can basically take that to mean something is going to happen with buck and eddie that's going to have fans theorizing/speculating after the episode. I'm honestly thinking that it's gonna be heavily teased that something happened between buddie at or after the bachelor party. like a charged moment or almost kiss but it won't be revealed at all in the episode. we will get like a glimpse of it and only eddie is going to remember pieces of it which will lead into his catholic guilt arc. and we're gonna spend the rest of the season trying to figure out what actually happened between buddie after the bachelor party and Eddie's gonna be keeping this huge secret from Buck.

it won't be revealed till the finale or something. My money is ultimately when the puzzle forms it's that buck and eddie almost kissed after the bachelor party but got interrupted by one of their many many party guests and by the finale I see Buck remembering what happened as well.

Suffice to say something is happening between buddie in this episode enough that media already has a buddie theory and she'll post it after the episode which means it will feature spoilers from this episode speculating a theory regarding buddie so that means something happens in this episode that's gonna lead fans to speculate about buddie and what happened between them?

Bestie, I literally wrote this as a fic idea right after 705 soaksasokasasok like, with how all over each other buddie seems to be you can ABSOLUTELY have a charged moment between them that doesn't connect just because they got interrupted and we don't see it until one of them talks about it later on, probably Eddie to someone, maybe Frank, and have that trigger Eddie's sexuality arc within the guilt arc, like, legit, I can see it happening, I mostly don't think the show would actually go for it, but honestly, this season keeps surprising me so... but it is a way to trigger Eddie's sexuality arc using Buck without pulling the trigger on buddie too soon, and keeping Buck oblivious to what's actually going on with Eddie while letting Buck explore his bisexuality outside of Eddie and Eddie trying to work through his own feelings would be nice. And it would be a nice parallel to Buck freaking about lying to Eddie about the date with T (because they LOVE to parallel the two of them), because Eddie would totally feel like he has to lie, because one, he doesn't understand what it means for him, two, he doesn't understand what it means for the both of them, and three if Buck is going to be infatuated about T, he wouldn't sabotage that, four, he still needs to deal with the searching for Shannon of it all, and this is a way to put the ball completely on Buck's court AND it is a way to address the emotional power imbalance that exists within buddie, because Eddie calls the shots a lot and that can't keep happening for them to be a good couple, yk? They can make Eddie explicitly make another unilateral decision about their relationship on the idea that he just knows Buck so well and knows how he's going to react, the whole I'm not enough thing could come back or just straight up use the I feel like she sees me and the I kinda can't stop thinking about him for Eddie to just decide that Buck was just too drunk and it wasn't really about him or about Buck wanting to make that change in their relationship or having feelings for him, and just expect Buck to go with it, and to have Buck reach that point where he realizes what happened and he decides to force Eddie into that conversation, I'm game, dude, like, legit, would love that. Even more, if we have some sort of emergency where both of them are in danger (trapped dads/drown Buck I will never give up on you) and you have Eddie aware to some degree and Buck being Buck without actually knowing until something happens and he's like OH FUCK and we can have the beginning of s8 addressing the will they do something about it or just keep pretending it's not there until they figure out they don't really have a choice, it's where they were going all along (buddie getting together 804 aka 100 episodes after Eddie got introduced maybe?), like, they can even have some conversation being interrupted, you can have things being said during the emergency they just don't have the chance to talk about, with the recovery or things going to hell or actually being interrupted by everyone and everything around them, especially if T is still in the mix, you can have the emergency be a season finale cliffhanger because they already have s8 confirmed and they never did a season cliffhanger and I feel like we are due one soon, and things would only be dealt with later. There's a lot to explore if something almost happens with them being drunk, and Eddie remembers but Buck doesn't. You can even add stuff like making Eddie work himself through his reactions to Buck so far or straight up confirm he has some level of awareness that his feelings for Buck are not all that platonic (Eddie fell first essay I will never give up on you) he just didn't know how to interpret that yet. It would open some fun possibilities, and considering the insistence on the triangle imagery, to make it an actual media love triangle by finally connecting the Buck and Eddie's side on a romantic level? It would add up.

#im game #its kinda crazy but it works #i have been thinking about it with how all over each other they are at that party #so #i see you #911 spoilers #911 #911 speculation #buddie thoughts #i really need a tag for asks #anon ��

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heliads · 1 day

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Can you do Peter Pan x reader OUAT? Peter goes to the modern world with Emma, Snow, David and them as they are looking for someone. He meets this girl and takes an interest to her. He’s never seen someone with facial piercings, and dyed hair before, they come to realize she is the girl they’ve been looking for.

'magic finds magic' - peter pan

masterlist

Peter Pan is leaving Neverland. Worse, he’s leaving Neverland alongside Snow, Emma, David, and Hook. In terms of traveling partners, this has got to be the lowest of the low. However, the sand in Peter’s immortal hourglass is running out, and his first attempt at prolonging his life with the heart of Henry Mills didn’t exactly go according to plan. It’s this or nothing, even though Peter is starting to wonder if it would be better to just die than put up with these people any longer.

Never in his life did Peter Pan think he’d be working with the good guys. But never in his life did Peter think he’d be dying, either. A few compromises will have to be made in the name of preserving Peter’s everlasting life, and if that means he has to put up with some princesses and pirates for a few days, so be it. In no time at all, his immortal life will be restored, and he can go back to Neverland and put all of this behind him. Hopefully.

Peter was supposed to die back on Neverland. He was running out of time, anyway. He had set up the perfect scheme: kidnap Henry, disorient the boy’s rescuers on his island long enough to win the Heart of the Truest Believer, and cut the organ out of the boy’s chest if necessary. He’d almost gotten away with it, too, except he was foiled at the last minute. Heartbreaking. So unlike him.

For some reason, though, he hadn’t been left to die in the caverns of Skull Rock. Emma and the others had needed him, for some odd reason, and although none of them trust him in the slightest, they do trust Peter’s single-minded selfishness to keep himself alive. So they claim, at least, and so they had gotten a spell to give Peter one more week of life in exchange for help. If this plan works out, Peter will have a way to continue his immortal life without needing to murder Henry. If it doesn’t, or if he betrays them, he’ll die anyway.

He can feel it now, the pang of his close call with death. There’s a pain in his chest that wasn’t there before, a certain weakness in his lungs. Peter gets tired more easily. He feels– well, he feels like Henry and Emma. He feels mortal. Like he could die at any moment.

Peter has, obviously, thought about double-crossing them, maybe even triple-crossing them, but it��s no use. He feels shakily mortal right now, and Peter does not much enjoy the possibility of his own demise. This is the closest he’s ever come to being beaten, and Peter hates the feeling. He’ll have to play along for now, but after that, he will have his revenge.

First, though, Peter has to do what the others want. They’ve been careful to reveal as few details to him as possible, but the idea is solid. There’s a magical person somewhere in the modern world, in a city far from Storybrooke. This person is like the embodiment of a true love’s kiss spell, designed to renew hope in storybook characters through small acts of power that ultimately drive two needed people together. They’re like a guardian angel of those on the brink of destruction, which is exactly what Peter needs right now.

Peter has plenty of time to mull this over. They’ve forced him into a terrible, small room with awful carpets– an apartment, Emma called it– while they talk out what to do with both him and their missing spell-person. Peter is trying to focus, but he’s getting stared at by Henry Mills again, which is absolutely ruining his mood.

“What do you want?” Peter asks, glaring at the boy.

Henry just goggles back at him. “Don’t you feel bad for trying to kill me?”

Peter snorts. “Why would I do that?”

Henry shrugs. “You pretended you were my friend. I know you like the other Lost Boys on your island, I thought you would have felt bad for killing one of them. I guess not.”

“I don’t feel bad about killing someone so I would live,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s arguing with a child. “Go preach your morals to someone who wants to listen.”

“The others are busy,” Henry pouts.

Peter eyes him unhappily. “And what, I’m your best option for polite conversation? You really are desperate, aren’t you?”

Henry rolls his eyes. “I’d say you’re desperate. You’re the one who’s still talking to me.”

Peter can’t really argue with that, so he deftly changes the topic of conversation before Henry starts looking proud of himself again. “Tell me about our target again. You said you saw them before?”

“Only in a dream,” Henry admits, “but it was a clear dream, I swear. I saw a girl who looked about your age. She seemed like any other teenager, but there was something about her that was different. The way she spoke, maybe, or the glint in her eyes. She was magical, I’m sure of it. She can save Storybrooke.”

“And save me,” Peter reminds him. “That’s the important part.”

Henry rolls his eyes again. If he keeps that up, they’re going to get stuck like that forever. “Yes, I know, you’re only interested in keeping yourself alive. So long as it helps us find this girl, though, I don’t care.”

Peter leans forward. “What’s your plan for finding this girl, then? A little scouting party? This city is big. You’ll never find her.”

Henry shakes his head. “Magic has a way of finding magic. Somehow, our paths will cross.”

“That’s a terrible strategy,” Peter grouses. Why is he entrusting his life to this boy again? He remembers something about having no other options, but it doesn’t seem as good an excuse right now.

“Ask the adults, then,” Henry tells him, and gestures towards the miniscule apartment kitchen, where Emma, Snow, Hook, and David are currently huddled around a table, talking in hushed voices about what to do.

Not wanting to mess with the kid anymore, Peter pulls himself to his feet and heads over. “Tell me you have a plan,” he says.

The adults look up at him. “Find the girl,” Hook says shortly. “That’s our plan.”

Peter scoffs. “You could search this city for months and not find her. What if she doesn’t want to be found? If this girl has any brains at all, she’ll know that people will want her magic and she’ll hide. It’s what I would do.”

Emma sighs. “We don’t even know if this girl knows that she has magic. She’s probably just living an ordinary life, and we’re about to drag her out of it with all of our trouble.”

“Don’t tell me you feel bad for her,” Peter scolds her. “You want this, don’t you? So go get it, or I will.”

Snow tries to tell him to calm down, but David, so quick to anger when it comes to Peter, surges out of his chair. “How about you do something helpful and think with us instead of just insulting us?”

“I will do something helpful,” Peter informs him. “I’ll find her first.”

With that, he lunges for the apartment door, and is out of the tiny room and down the hall before they can stop him. Peter hears the thunder of footsteps after him, but he hurries down the stairs and out of the building. He has the advantage of being quick on his feet; if Neverland taught him anything, it’s how to run when you don’t want to be found.

Peter emerges into the bright sunshine of the city and stops dead in his tracks. He’s not used to the modern world, how the knives of its buildings slash up into the sky, how loud it is with those cars and signs and people. Peter swears he can even see metal things in the sky, soaring along predestined paths. It’s all so much compared to the world he used to know. No wonder some of the others had a hard time adjusting. His mortal heart lets out a pang of sympathy.

The door of the apartment building flies open, revealing Emma and the others hot on his trail. Peter curses under his breath and takes off in one direction, hurtling around pedestrians and shooting down the sidewalk. He heads for smaller streets, hoping to lose them in a swarm of alleyways. The others, more used to the terrain of the modern city, are gaining on him, and Peter is just starting to think that he’ll never be able to shake them when someone grabs him and pulls him into a nearby building.

Peter’s first instinct is to defend himself, but when he isn’t attacked, he realizes that the stranger is only trying to help him. There’s a window just to his left, and Peter watches Emma and the others appear seconds after him. They didn’t see him enter the shop, and keep sprinting down the road in the direction they thought he’d gone. Peter waits a few more intense moments, then decides that he’s lost them for good and turns back around to see who’s gone to the trouble of rescuing him.

He’s greeted with the sight of a girl about his age. She’s eyeing him cautiously, although the corners of her lips begin to prick up with a wicked grin. “Sorry for the rough introduction, but you looked like you needed some help,” she tells him.

Peter lets out a short laugh. “I’m glad to be rid of them, that’s for sure.”

The girl arches a brow. “What, did they catch you shoplifting? I’ve never seen people run that fast unless they were getting chased by the cops.”

Peter narrows his eyes, trying to figure out how on earth he would lift a shop, then decides it’s probably some slang term he doesn’t know. “Something like that,” he says evasively.

He studies the girl’s face to see if he’d answered correctly, and, judging by her impressed grin, he had. “Nice,” she says. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Peter,” he replies. He gets the urge to introduce himself as he usually would– Peter, Peter Pan– then remembers at the last second that Emma had warned him about telling people who he was. Apparently, telling people he was a fictional character in their world wouldn’t go over too well.

“Peter,” the girl repeats. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Peter says, and realizes belatedly that he means it. He feels like how he had at the start of it all, when the Lost Boys had first started appearing on this island, but this feeling is far stronger. He wants to get to know this girl. He certainly doesn’t want her to leave.

“I’m new to the city,” he says abruptly. “Any chance you could show me around?”

Y/N laughs, surprised. “You’re new and you’re already in trouble? You’ll fit right in, Peter.”

He grins, in on the joke a half beat late. “I like to have fun, that’s all.”

“Well,” Y/N says, starting to lead him back towards the door of the shop, “I like fun, too. Maybe we should stick together.”

“I’d like that,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s being so honest all of a sudden. When he sees Y/N’s smile– real this time, not sarcastic or joking, but genuinely because of him– he thinks he knows why.

The two of them step back out into the light. “Where to first?” Peter asks.

“I was going to ask you that,” Y/N replies. “What do you want to do? Sightseeing, maybe? We can get some food, or just talk.”

“Anything,” he says. He’d follow her anywhere. The feeling in him right now is like nothing he’s ever felt before. The pain in his chest, Peter realizes with some surprise, is gone. He feels immortal. Like living in this one moment could last forever.

They end up spending the next few hours together. Y/N shows him around the city, taking Peter to her favorite spots. Peter stares at the vast cityscape and finally starts to understand why someone might choose the modern world over the natural one. He’ll always pick Neverland first, of course, but seeing the world through Y/N’s eyes, it makes sense.

The two of them get along like a house on fire. Y/N’s got this rebellious streak to her that fits in perfectly with Peter’s, well, Peter-ness. No joke is too dark, no sarcastic comment too caustic. They feel the same. Peter doesn’t think he’s ever met someone who thinks so much like him.

As the sun starts to set in the sky, Peter feels his spirits sinking. He doesn’t want to let go of this day, not when he knows it can never happen again. He’s supposed to be finding Henry’s spell-girl, but all Peter wants to do is spend more time with Y/N.

His mood is especially ruined when they turn a corner and find Henry Mills walking towards them. Peter’s eyes widen and he tries to steer Y/N back in the direction they’d come, but it’s too late. Henry lets out an audible gasp and starts hurrying towards them.

“Peter,” Henry calls out when he’s close enough to talk, “We’ve been looking for you all over! Where have you been?”

Y/N glances at Henry dubiously. “Who’s this?”

“My little brother,” Peter blurts out.

At the same time, Henry chimes in, “My friend from school.”

Peter shoots the younger boy a quick glare, then turns back to Y/N. “Both, actually. He’s my step-brother. Recent marriage. We’re still getting acclimated. Our family is a little chaotic.”

“You can say that again,” Henry mumbles. Peter fights the urge to butcher him.

While Peter silently advises himself on why murder would be bad at a time like this, Henry stares openly at Y/N. All of a sudden, the boy’s mouth hangs open. “Oh my gosh, it’s you.”

Y/N’s brow furrows. “Excuse me?”

All of a sudden, Peter feels a sick sensation in his stomach. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t.

“You’re the girl from my dream,” Henry announces. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Y/N looks back at Peter. “What’s he talking about?”

The open, carefree expression, which had been on her face all day, is starting to be replaced with deep, unsettled fear. Peter hates to see it directed at him. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he begins. “Something about yourself.”

“You’re sounding a little creepy right now,” Y/N warns him. “Get to the point.”

“Alright,” Peter says. “You’re magical. So am I. We need your help to break a curse and save my life. How about that?”

Y/N shakes her head quickly. “This is crazy. Magic isn’t real.”

Peter can’t lose her, not like this, so he leans forward and holds out his hand. A ball of light appears inside his cupped fingers, glowing and bright. It’s a simple charm, one of the first he learned, but it has the desired effect.

Y/N stares at it, transfixed, and when she speaks again, her voice is hushed. “That’s impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible,” Peter says. “Not magic. Not even the fact that you would find me in this city by accident. Magic is drawn to magic.”

Y/N’s eyes slowly raise to meet his. “This is real, then. I have magic.”

“You have magic,” Peter confirms. “Come with us, we can show you. They’re good people, Y/N. You can trust them.”

It’s the closest he’s ever come to honesty. For once, Peter isn’t playing a game. He isn’t trying to trick Y/N over to his side. He just wants her to be safe, and he knows that isn’t through lies.

Y/N smiles at him. “I trust you, Peter. That’s enough for me.”

She reaches over and takes his hand. Now that he’s focusing on it, Peter can feel the slow loop of her magic when they touch. It feels like power, but more than that, it feels like life. A life with her, maybe. A life for both of them.

ouat tag list: @loveanimals0000, @eclliipsed, @w1shes43, @lost-ender

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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nunalastor · 2 days

Note

Hello! Continuation of Snow White + Tangled AU (@grimfeywizard suggested "Findling Charlie AU" and I liked it, thank you), set right after Alastor scolds Lucifer.

Two months. It only took Lucifer two months to ruin things with his daughter. Is it pathetic to think that it was an achievement?

He doesn't really understand what he did so wrong, but after that kidnapper, that sinner dared to scold him like that, Lucifer can't help but think that he should reevaluate his interactions with his daughter.

First there were the gifts. He had to make up for so many birthdays, he was determined to keep his goal at least one a day, but he probably overwhelmed his daughter.

Secondly, his daughter's business. He didn't understand, he didn't see the reason why his daughter would want to do that charity work. Of course, his daughter would have a good heart no matter what, but he never saw sinners as anything else than what they already were, absolute monsters, and after his daughter was taken, his opinion only worsened.

Third, their interactions. Since finding her he has treasured every second he has spent with her...but he is ashamed to admit that he doesn't remember much of what they talked about. She was always so cheerful and had a beautiful smile on her face, and he couldn't help but daydream that this was exactly how it should always be. And unfortunately that meant he wasn't really listening to her, too focused on looking for any resemblance between them.

Fourth, and least important, the sinner, the overlord, Alastor, the Radio Demon, or whatever his name was, the damn kidnapper. He was always there, even when he didn't see him, he just knew he was there, whether doing his job as the hotel host or acting as a guard dog, keeping an eye on them from a distance when he was with HIS daughter. Lucifer wanted to enjoy his time with his daughter, but he couldn't help but want to tear off the sinner's head or make some comment to provoke a reaction in the kidnapper, perhaps in this way Lucifer would get the sinner to reveal himself as he really was and his daughter would like to get away from her kidnapper.

He was so wrong.

That day he simply...couldn't wait any longer. He wanted his daughter to come home with him, he wanted to show her her room and help her decorate it. He wanted to get her away from these sinners, from her kidnapper, who were clearly putting ideas in her head just to take advantage of her.

It was exactly what he told her, he just wanted her to realize how bad this whole situation was. But the look in his daughter's eyes, her frown, her smile fading, seeing her taking a step away from him.

He didn't realize when he opened the portal to his palace, he didn't realize that he was trying to reach her. He only realized his words when he had the kidnapper in front of him.

"Don't act like nothing happened, like almost 100 years haven't passed."

"Don't you dare dismiss her ideas, as if she were a girl who knows nothing about life when she formed them by seeing the situation up close."

Lucifer understood the message when the sinner began to recount moments of his life with Charlie. The sinner wanted to say "I am not a good person, but I have been her father."

Lucifer wanted to be angry, he wanted to tell the kidnapper that it was his fault, that he shouldn't have taken his daughter, but he listened, he felt the sincerity in his words. He saw her daughter hug that sinner, and he saw how the sinner eyes and that creepy perpetual smile softened.

"Stop acting like a wallet and start acting like a father."

What could he respond to that? He only takes the things that the sinner gave him. When he crossed the portal to his palace he felt cold, he realized that until that day his daughter had not hugged him.

"Take your time to get to know Charlie."

The first thing he sees is the clothes, the ones she was wearing the last time he saw her. He himself put his daughter in that pretty blue dress, adorned with a duckling on the chest, as if it were swimming in a pond. "Charlie" sewing in white letters just below the duckling.

The second thing he sees is the basket. A black basket with a red blanket. The sinner kept saying that he found Charlie in a basket. He never believed a word, but the basket looks worn, it doesn't look like something someone would acquire just to decorate their lie.

Then look at the books, a photo album and a scrapbook. In both there are brief messages written in crayons next to the photographs or memories. It feels like he's reading a diary. Look carefully at each photograph, moments in his daughter's life, in Charlie's life, her birthdays, places she went ("Aunt Rosie's emporium, the rose bushes of pride, in front of the angelic embassy"), people she met ("Grandpa Zestial is taller than Dad, Aunt Carmilla and her daughters are lovely, Niftty followed Dad home, Dad says Husker can be my pet since he won't give me a puppie"). In the scrapbook were some entries to "Lulu's World" ("Best day, thank you daddy" written in pink crayon. "Quite a pleasure, my deer" written in black pencil and a smiley face drawn on the side), the photo of an expensive diamond necklace, next to a diamond from said necklace glued to the side (the drawing of an angry face in pink crayon, "Brilliant things are not the same as brilliant minds" written in black pencil).

He spends his time carefully studying each page of both books. He thinks he can understand where he was wrong.

He is concentrated, he does not notice the passage of time, and when he reaches the end of both books, when he has already thought of a thousand apologies, he sees a piece of paper in the back of the scrapbook.

It's a note that says "Take care of her" signed by someone he never thought he would hear from again.

Every thought escapes his mind, the only thing he knows now are two things.

First, the sinner, Alastor, told him the truth.

Second, he must contact Roo.

👀

#hazbin hotel #nunalastor asks #snow white #tangled #tangled au #alastor #radioapple #lucifer

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thatmoththoth · 2 days

Note

*holds out hands like a poor little Victorian boy*

fr3d1 headcanons?

This is going to be very long so here’s a cut

Ok so. In my mind, he’s a sentient little goober. He said screw the ‘robots can’t feel love’ trope, and proceeded to fall in love with everyone in the OIAR. Anyway he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing at any given time but he knows the following: fear tastes good, I love everyone here, and mischief is fun. As such, he enjoys freaking people out a bit, and causing a bit of mayhem here and there. He’ll give people talkers at very inconvenient times, trip people with his wires, and generally be a nuisance. All in good fun of course. Since he loves the people at the OIAR, if they were to ask him sincerely to stop doing something, he would infact listen, however, no one has don’t that yet.

When no one is in the office he plays computer games on himself, like solitare, snake, minesweeper, ect. Cool Math Games is his best friend when it comes to satisfying his boredom in day hours. Other things he does other than computer games, is doing things he knows will annoy Colin, like rearranging wires in the server room.

One time he tried to download a virus on himself to see what would happen and decided that it was not in-fact a fun thing. Since colin was the one who fixed it, Freddy took that like someone taking care of you when you when you’re sick in bed. Because of this, Freddy is most keen to try to flirt with Colin. Attempts at doing so thus far have not been successful.

On the other hand there’s Alice, who regularly flirts with Freddy in a haha joking way (or atleast that’s what she’s telling herself for now) and even though she isn’t doing it seriously, it’s still highly effective on Freddy. And not just that, but whenever shes the only one working, and she’s slacking off, she’ll infodump her interests towards Freddy. So those are the reasons he loves her so far.

Sam has this odd thing he started doing out of habit about a week after working at the OIAR. Atleast once a week he’ll find some sort of trinket, and leave it on top of his desk monitor. The trinkets range from pennies from off the ground to cool rocks he found. Every time he does this, the next day it’s gone. Sam thinks it’s one of the other OIAR employees taking them, but little does he know that it’s Fr3-d1 and FR3-d1 cherishes each and every one of these little offerings, storing them in a drawer somewhere in the server room.

Nothing for Celia yet. Haven’t really thought about it much, and she hasn’t been here long enough to have much association with Freddy other than knowing the origin of the voices.

Lena and Freddy have a long history. They actively talk to eachother, and have a sort of situationship going on. Maybe they try to like, jumpscare eachother or something. Lena was his first kiss but it was literally the most awkward thing ever so they have never brought it up again, only vaguely alluding to it as ‘The Incident’.

Like Celia I haven’t really thought about Gwen much in terms of Freddy, but I imagine Freddy likes to scare her the most out of everyone. My basis for this is him giving her a bonzo casement right after a traumatic experience with bonzo.

Anyway now for the logistics of my Freddy design.

So, Freddy can move wires and stuff around because they are a part of him, so he takes advantage of this fact to form a vaguely humanoid shape. A lot of the non wire pieces were either gifts from Lena, Sam, Klaus, or are just random pieces he found lying around that no one was using. He only really does this around Lena as he wants to try to actually make contact with the others without it first.

#freddy tmagp #tmagp freddy #fr3 d1 #tmagp #the magnus protocol #headcannons #colin becher #lena kelley #samama khalid #alice Dyer #polygramming #B3ch #fr3yer #Fr4m

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treedaddymcpuffpuff · 10 hours

Text

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine

TW: little bit of nsfw, BDSM mention, angst

You shouldn’t be googling ‘how to tell a guy no in a nice way’ at the nurse’s station, but something has to be done. You thought after you left Julian’s place that there would be a mutual understanding of “this isn’t going to work out, we’re too incompatible”, but he didn’t seem to get that memo.

The gifts just keep coming:

A pretty black silk dress in your exact size by Prada. Two crescent thin golden bangles for each wrist from Tiffany & Co that come in a robin’s egg blue box wrapped in a white satin ribbon. Upon close examination, you make out that they are subtly engraved in slanting script, JM. Really? His initials? You almost chuck them out the window just for that.

An expensive lunch from the fancy bistro that you can never afford, though you would have preferred a gourmet sandwich to an artisan salad.

A bouquet of fifty fucking red roses for Christ’s sake. They take up so much room at the nurse’s station that they’re a nuisance. They’re addressed to you, not signed—but you know exactly who they’re from. Then you have to field all the annoying questions about who’s your secret admirer? You hear Karen grumble that it must be that Officer Romeo and didn’t know cops got paid that good.

If only they knew. It would serve Julian right, if you just ratted him out to everyone.

This has to stop.

“Julian?”

He looks up from his mountain of paperwork. “Hey, look who it is. Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine. How are you?” Yeah, great, egg this on a little bit more instead of getting to the point. When will you learn?

“I’m spectacular,” he says. “I was wondering if you were alright because you called off for the first time yesterday?”

Yeah, so I didn’t have to face you after receiving the expensive ass jewelry…

Your smile feels forced enough to induce a migraine, but at least it gives you an idea for an excuse. “Yeah, I had a really bad migraine.”

“Oh, that’s not good. Do you get them frequently?”

“Yes.” It’s not exactly a lie, although these migraines you’re admitting to are actually just mild caffeine withdrawal headaches when you don’t have enough time to drink your coffee.

“Have you talked to your primary care provider about it?” He asks, standing up to flash his penlight in your eyes and dilate your pupils. He grips your chin and turns your head to check lateral eye movement, but you stop him.

“Julian, I’m fine. I didn’t have a stroke.”

“Don’t tell me you’re fine if you’re not fine,” he orders. “I can see there’s something wrong. You're pale and clammy.” He pulls out his big leather chair and guides you to sit in it. “Tell me what I can do to help.”

You look up at him, at this kind eyed, two sided man, and can’t do it. You can’t tell him to stop sending you gifts or buying you food, because you don’t want to be an asshole and you don’t want to hurt his feelings. Your nerves die along with your resolve.

“There, see, you look like you’re feeling better already. I’ll go buy you some water.”

“No, you don’t-“ he’s already gone halfway down the hall with those mile long legs.

You decide to take all the expensive gifts and shove them in the bottom of your closet to avoid feeling guilty when looking at them. But that doesn’t change the fact that you still have to look at Dr. Mercer and endure his caring, golden retriever persona.

This is what happens when you lie to yourself. You swear off relationships, move to a different part of the country, and then decide to go on a date—idiot—and these are the consequences for it. You feel like you have absolutely betrayed that girl that packed up her whole life to come to LA for a fresh start, and you’re sure she’s not forgiving you this time.

“No more,” you say to yourself, pushing the gift boxes to the back of the cobwebby closet. “No more dates, no more men. No more heartbreak. You stupid bitch. Yes, that includes Tom Ludlow. Shut up. I said. No. Tom. Ludlow.”

You end up screaming into a pillow, then calling your sister. She doesn’t answer, which is typical—probably on the road or using again or even dead in a ditch for all you know.

“Hey, Aggie, it’s me, gimme a call.” You play the voicemail back and then decide to delete it and hang up. You’re not exactly on speaking terms, but that ebbs and flows from one year to the next, so you’re not sure what she’ll think or do when she sees your name on her phone screen.

Your friend, Sheila, doesn’t answer either; she’s probably at work.

It sucks. You could really use some reassurance and comfort that you’re not alone or unwanted in this fucked up little world. Maybe that’s why you end up with your finger hovering over Tom Ludlow’s number while you sit on the floor of your bedroom. You stare at those digits for a long time, then tuck your phone away and cry.

You only get a chance to dive a little bit into this self pity session before your phone rings from your pocket. It’s not Aggie, nor Sheila, but a number you’ve unintentionally memorized nonetheless.

Now, you really have to fight with every piece of yourself not to answer Tom Ludlow. The lecture you just monologued becomes irrelevant next to the burning, awful fucking desire to hear him talk. You almost pick it up. Almost.

Watching your phone ring and ring, his name emblazoned on the screen, without answering feels like cutting out your heart and crushing it under your heel.

It goes to voicemail, but he hangs up before leaving a message.

A part of you that you didn’t even know that you need dies.

Good. Good riddance. Your heart only gets you into huge fucking trouble anyway.

You wait for your inner strength to return over the days that go by afterwards. Tom continues to call. You keep declining to answer. For some reason, you feel worse and worse every time the phone ceases to ring.

Where is you fucking girl power now?

All you really feel, is empty, and that is the vulnerable state Julian finds you in one late night at the nurses station.

“Y/n,” he greets you, leaning on the counter, looking down at you with a glimmer of something dangerous in his dark eyes. It’s a look he almost never lets out of the box while at the hospital, and suddenly your heart is in your throat.

“Doctor.”

For some reason this causes him to smile down at you, a slight curl of lips that unleashes a handful of fluttering butterflies in your belly.

“I’ve been thinking about you.”

You recall the massive bouquet of pure white lilies he had sent to your door yesterday, and believe him.

“Julian…”

He comes around the counter, smooth as a dark lake, reminding you of when he jumped over the couch and chased you like he was a wolf rather than a golden retriever. Your pussy gives a timid little throb at this, almost as if she’s asking for permission to come out after days of being punished, locked away in her gilded cage while you dealt with other, more pressing emotions, like the one that stabs you repeatedly in the chest while you let Tom Ludlow’s number go to voicemail.

“I can’t stop-“ he clears his throat, chin up as if he’s trying not to be nervous, and brushes some wispy, rogue hair off your neck. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” You can tell by the black matte of his eyes he means more than just platonically.

Every hair on your body stands at attention for that hungry, eat you alive look on the handsome Doctor’s face. Part of you, and it’s a bigger part than you’d like to admit, wants to have a gag stuffed down your throat and a tight slip knot holding it in place so that he can do whatever he wants without you ruining things with your fat mouth again.

“We’re just. We’re really not—Fuck.” You slap your forehead into your hands, and he takes it out, ever so gently with a big, shiver-inducing palm at the back of your neck, gripped softly in your hair, not exactly pulling, but lifting your face up to look at him nonetheless.

“Please, just hear me out.” It doesn’t sound like he’s used that first word very often—maybe not ever, or at least not for a very long time. Dr. Mercer’s picture is in the dictionary under the word ‘Polite’, but he practically runs this hospital, and with that responsibility comes a certain authoritative entitlement.

“Julian, we’re at work.” You don’t know how he manages to get you on the desk without alerting anyone around. The way he can just lift you easy and gentle has a familiar desire bubbling hot in your hips, and you can’t decide if you’re glad that you chose to chart in a more secluded area of the floor tonight or not.

“I can’t help it.” It sounds like he’s honest about that, voice splintering and needy as he presses his hard torso between your soft thighs. “I know that I fucked up, but if I don’t get a second chance to at least try and rectify this…” He’s not usually a man that doesn’t know what he wants to say.

This whole swearing off men thing? How is it supposed to fucking work if the men look and act like Julian? How are you supposed to do the whole proverbial keep it in your pants bit when a sexy, tall, beautiful doctor wants—desperately—to string you up to his bed and do horrible things to your body?

You can’t believe these words are coming out of your traitor's mouth as you bend under his will: “what kind of a second chance?”

He kisses you in response, long and slow, tongue slipping teasingly against the sensitive inner sanctum of your mouth. It leaves your toes curling, your chest rising quick and rapid, your white knuckles clutching the polished counter. He’s not exactly nice about it, pressing you back into the lip of the granite, holding the entire side of your face in his hard grip, turning your mouth red and swollen.

You’re going to have to bleach wipe this desk after all of this is done, because the insistent need of his mouth is making your comfy cotton underwear damp and warm like a humid summer night back at home.

“Let me take you to the club. Let me show you…let me help you understand.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Isn’t that the fucking understatement of the century? It sounds like a terrible idea. But, you were the one that wanted to understand him better. “When?”

The thrill seeker, she’ll never die. She needs blood, she’s thirsty, she doesn’t want a boring life of reading and watching the news. She wants to go to a BDSM club in Venice with a fine ass doctor and probably ruin your—her life in the process.

“When are you off next?” The grin on Julian’s face is all Mr. Hyde.

#Julian Mercer x Reader #tom ludlow x reader #tom ludlow #street kings #keanuverse fic #keanuverse #something’s gotta give #Sorry spooky more Julian 🙂‍↕️

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fanficapologist · 16 hours

Note

Hello! I just wanted to share with you some thoughts.

The new chapter from Aemond's POV just proves two things about Alys:

1) She is more of a lying manipulative witch than we realised.

2) She absolutely has no emotions. Look at how she delivered her offer to have Maera's aunt's house die. She just has no remorse.

These two points now leads me to think that her encounter with Maera in the main fic was a big lie from which she wanted to gain something.

Then, comes the part about her and Aemond's weird moments... This just brings more depth to Aemond's almost kinky dominance. Like, I never thought he would connect the experience to when Aegon forced him to the brothel. I don't think I ever thought about it like that - I never thought that he was "forced", so this just brings a new perspective.

But I really really have been thinking that his POV just makes me think he's a narcissist, because it just keeps sounding like he wants to only control Maera. There's no warmth or love to it, and I'm kinda worried that it's always been like that with him. If not, then I really wanna know how the transformation occurs from this selfish bitch to "I'm so angry she threw my ledger into the fire, but she demanded I don't get mad, so I will pull my shit together" Aemond.

Like always, though, I am mesmerised by your writing. 💕

Hello! Let’s have a deep dive 🖤

A couple of POV chapters back we see Aemond’s experience in the brothel briefly as well as his relationship with sex moving forward like when he “uses” (as he phrased it) the maids in the castle.

I’d like to point out as well that in real like Aemond is a walking talking red flag 🚩 he is obsessive, possessive, controlling, jealous and domineering, which are all parts of his canon personality. A few chapters back in ODAM one of the characters mentions that they are unsure if Aemond actually is capable of loving; to which honestly I’m leaving up for speculation.

By today’s standards, do I think Aemond is displaying healthy tendencies? Absolutely not, not by a long shot. Do I think he loves Maera? From what he understands love to be, yes, I think he does. But his idea of affection is incredibly warped from all his trauma.

That’s why I love writing this so much! Nothing is black and white it’s all crazy and complex, just like people in real life 😊

#maera wylde #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #chapters #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house targaryen #house wylde #hotd helaena

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anxiousnerdwritings · 18 hours

Note

A question about Joanna!lookalike reader.

When she leaves for the north because robert wants her to be able to have the freedom to express her self. is it at first just to stay their, or was there disscusstion of marriage with the Stark family before being sent off?

Also i see that jon snow may be intrested in Joanna!lookalike reader👀

Prehaps when request open i might ask for something about that

I like to imagine that not only is Robert’s first thought to get Joanna!Lookalike!Reader out from the suffocating and distressful environment she’s in but that he would also go with her himself to make sure she gets there safe and settles in alright. Not to mention he definitely wants to fill Ned in on everything going on, spilling all the absolute piping hot tea, and you can bet that big man isn’t leaving without at least discussing the idea of some near future betrothing going on.

You can also be assured that when Robert and the Reader take off for the North, it’s late into the evening/early morning as to not have Cersei finding out cause she would surely throw a massive bitch fit. Robert wouldn’t want her to know of any of his plans to have the Joanna!Lookalike!Reader reside in the North for however long she needs to. Not to mention it would only spite her all the more that she have no knowledge of the Reader’s being sent off.

A part of me likes to imagine that Jaime is well aware of these plans, hell he’s probably on watch when Robert and the Reader leave but he keeps his mouth shut cause he knows deep down that Joanna!Lookalike needs this more than ever after the breakdown they had at dinner that one night. Unlike his sister and father, Jaime does see past the Joanna resemblance and acknowledges the Reader as their own person. And their breakdown just opened his eyes even more so to how much of a damaging effect this has had on them this whole time.

I feel like Robert not only wants to marry Joanna!Lookalike!Reader to Robb (or even Jon👀) to have his and Ned’s blood come together but also to give an excuse for the Reader to stay in Wingerfell and not have to come back home if they don’t want to.

You can bet your sweetcheeks that Jon is gonna be interested in Joanna!Lookalike. Especially given that I completely see the Reader just absolutely letting loose. This is the only chance they get to be as free as they’ll ever be and they’re going to take full advantage of it. They want to run wild, they want to get dirty, they want to not have to be perfect, they just want to be content as they are and I think that would really catch Jon’s attention. There will also of course be a sort of ‘friendly’ yandere rivalry between Jon and Robb for the Reader, not only for their attention but eventually for their hand in marriage as well. At least, it’ll start out friendly enough until things get serious.

If the Reader were to choose Jon, I like to think Robert would be a little more lenient about it. He’s definitely going to talk to Ned about legitimizing his bastard if that’s the case but I almost kinda feel like Robert would let it slide if that’s truly what the Joanna!Lookalike!Reader wanted given everything they’ve gone through and had put on them. Hell, he’s the fucking king he could legitimize Jon himself if he so wanted. And don’t tell him otherwise.

Or the Reader may as well happily give up their royal status if it meant they finally could be who they wanted to be with the person they truly wanted to be with. I could see that being the first thing that crosses Joanna!Lookalike’s mind when the idea of marrying Jon comes up. Heck, the Reader may purposely seek Jon out for his bastard status as an excuse to sever those ties with their suffocatingly overbearing family back home.

Gods, could you imagine yan!Jon Snow (especially Book!Jon Snow) finding out his darling was only with him for his bastard status and so they could strip themself of everything that came with the family they were a part of? As much as that would all hurt, I think what would hit him hardest is if his darling didn’t even remotely share the same romantic feelings for his as he did, not a shred of it. Maybe the Reader liked Jon platonically and saw him as a safer option to some degree. I could definitely see him guilt tripping/manipulating them into being intimate with him. Even if it’s holding his hand or kissing him on the lips. But those small acts would only last him so long, he’s starved after all and he wants nothing more than to feel all of the Reader’s love they have to give. Mentally, emotionally, and physically.

#anxious answers #yandere jon snow #yandere house lannister #yandere cersei lannister #yandere tywin lannister #yandere jaime lannister #yandere game of thrones #yandere game of thrones concept #yandere concept

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buttercupp-baby · 1 day

Text

Wedding Preparations

Characters: Gojo Satoru x fem reader

Word Count: 672

Trigger Warnings: Marriage, scars, talks of loved one passing

Before I knew it, it was the summer of our third year going on our fourth or the summer of my wedding.

You look absolutely stunning sweetie,” Gojo’s mom squeezed my arm in excitement. This was the 30th dress she had made me try on, “how does it feel?”

“Um good, it's a little tight no?”

“That’s how it’s supposed to feel,” she waved me off.

“Right,” I awkwardly nodded.

“Now sweetie, I’ll admit I’ve been avoiding this for a while now but um, your scar,” I touched my scarred arm, “It would be more modest if you were to cover it up, I’m sure you understand with the type of audience that will be in attendance

“Yeah, you’re right,” I said a little emotionlessly

“I’m glad you understand”

“I really liked that one dress, the one that had a low neckline with lace sleeves. What about you? Or we could always try on some more?

No,” I quickly said, “I mean, I also really liked that one, let's go with it”

“Perfect, you have excellent taste,” she squealed. Gojo’s mom has been nothing but nice since the engagement was announced, but I was tired, sad, angry, and just wanted to go home to my bed.

“Today was such a productive day, I’m glad we were able to come to agreement for everything,”

“Me too,” I sighed as the workers helped me out of the dress.

“Have tea with me before you take off for the day, will you?”

“Of course Ms. Gojo

Her personal driver brought us back to the Gojo estate where she and I ended up having tea in her garden.

“You know I was 16 when I married Satoru’s father,” she smiled at me

“That’s really young,”

“It is. Everything was really confusing and chaotic and difficult for me. My mom taught me how to be a dutiful wife and a beautiful bride all while preparing for the wedding. I apologize I’m beating around the bush, what I’m trying to say is that it must be a bit saddening and scary and lonely to not have your mom here with you for such a big moment. And I wanted to say I’m here for any questions or any emotions you may be feeling,” my eyes were watering in realization.

“Thank you, Mrs. Gojo, I really appreciate it, you have no idea. Thank you.

The drive back to school was relaxing enough to be out of heels. She had been right, I do miss my mom. I do wish she was here. I do wish she would be there on my wedding day. I do wish she was there when I tried on wedding dresses. I just wish my mom was here. I took a deep breath as I realized we were approaching jujustu tech. Satoru was at the entrance waiting for me. He opened my door and welcomed me with a smile, “Sooooo how’d it go?”

Holding my heels in my left hand I climbed out of the car, “You have no idea how grateful I am to breathe and walk without a stabbing pain.” Satoru cringed as I told him. He took my heels from my hand as we walked onto campus.

He sighed,” I’m sorry, I know my mother can be a bit overbearing, but she means well.”

I giggled, “I know. She was really kind.”

“Really? You were able to pick the flower arrangements, the color of the tablecloths, even the color of the napkins without a fight?”

“You’re being dramatic. Your mother has good taste, there was no fighting”

“How? I could barely leave the house without her commenting on the way I looked and I always look amazing.

“Everything went well, our wedding will be in a week and everything will be perfect. Your mother made sure of it.

At this point in our walk, we were outside my dorm. “Thank you, good sir, for accompanying me to my doorstep, but I really need a bath right now. See ya.”

“See ya, sweetheart”

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

Notes:

This is the first fanfic I've posted feedback is much welcome, please remember to be kind. Please let me know if I missed any trigger warnings. I hope you like it, there are more to come.

#gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru x female reader

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funhouse-mirror-barbie · 3 days

Text

So I actually really enjoyed the little HB short with Millie and Sallie Mae.

I thought it was cute and it was breath of fresh spring air to get some scenes with JUST woman characters interacting and talking about their relationship.

That said, after watching, it just made me realize how much I want an ACTUAL episode exploring Millie and her background.

At the end of the short we get that brief conversation about Sallie Mae seeming to feel left behind when Millie moved to the city, and that honestly should have been the plot of the harvest moon festival imo.

Little reimagining of how Harvest Moon Festival could have used the basic premise/conflict in Hell’s Belles to develope Millie more and give us a better insight into her character. (Also after typing all of this out I realized I misspelled Sallie May’s name, and I’m too tired to go back and fix it please do not bully me rip 😭🪦)

So, Instead of having Moxxie compete with striker, what if we’d learned that Millie left home because she had an inferiority complex due to constantly being compared to Sally Mae, who could be the “golden child” of the family.

Maybe Sally Mae and Millie have always had a really fierce sibling rivalry, and Millie has struggled a lot with measuring up to her sister.

Striker could be not only the new farmhand, but Sally Mae’s new boyfriend. Instead of the conflict being Moxxie’s feelings of inferiority to Striker, further tension could come from Millie being upset that her parents are so accepting of Sally Mae’s partner while not approving of her’s.

Millie could be the one to find Striker’s assassin gear, and Striker manages to knock her out like he did Moxxie. Instead of Moxxie stabbing Striker like Millie did in the actual episode, it’s Sally Mae who catches Striker and stabs him to try and save her sister. The way this could be set up could also be a nice establishing character moment for Sally Mae—she’s dating Striker, but the moment she sees her sister in danger she doesn’t hesitate to try and save her sister.

Striker throws Sallie Mae and Millie into the basement, and Sallie Mae is the one to get her leg in the bear trap.

They have a sister heart to heart, where Millie expresses her frustration for not being able to take Striker out on her own and feeling like she’s always been in Sallie Mae’s shadow.

Sallie Mae could then reveal that she’s always been jealous of Millie for being her own person and going against their parent’s wishes by striking out on her own moving to Imp City. Maybe Sally Mae has always been afraid of disappointing their parents, but wishes she could also leave the farm. Or Idk, maybe she’s always been the “golden child” because she’s been trying to impress Millie, and not their parents, because she admires her sister. There’s a lot of different sibling rivalry/insecurity conflicts and dynamics that could be used here.

The main point is that they come to an understanding in the basement, Sallie Mae gives Millie a pep talk and lets her know that she can do this and take down Striker.

Millie escapes the basement and the episode plays out like it does in the actual show. Instead of Millie getting talked down to her parents at the end, it’s Sally Mae, and when they criticize Sally Mae for getting hurt and try to praise Millie for getting out of the basement and chasing Striker away with Blitzø, Millie stands up for herself and her sister, stopping her parents from pitting the siblings against each other like they did in the past.

The sisters leave on good terms and the day is saved or whatever. They hug goodbye, and promise to stay in touch more and visit soon.

This could potentially help set up the idea of Millie having an inferiority complex and struggling with not believing she’s important that, in my opinion, comes out of absolutely nowhere in “Unhappy Campers”. If it’s established early that Millie has always struggled with feeling less-than in comparison to Sallie Mae and her siblings, it makes a lot more sense that she’d be so excited with the attention she receives in Unhappy Campers. And that she’d be extra upset by Moxxie’s lack of support.

Also for anyone asking “what about moxxie” idk. helluva boss loves their b and c plots so maybe there could be a slapstick bit where Millie’s brothers keep trying to wrestle Moxxie, so Moxxie is always hiding from them or getting tackled by them. Or maybe Moxxie could be really excited to try and bond with Millie’s family and get to know them more, so he keeps trying to connect with them in different awkward ways. Whatever. This is Millie’s episode now, I don’t care what moxxie does.

This is a very very basic re-imagining, and it’s definitely been done before and can be cliche. I want to make it really really clear that I’m NOT writing this out as a “fix-it”.

More of just a “what-if” and wishing about what may have been in terms of Millie getting more character development in the show proper, instead of getting a tiny bit of development and background info in a 5 minute short.

It’s just a shame because I’d love to have more concrete development for Millie. The short gave us a LITTLE insight into her and Sallie May’s characters, but it feels like we’re still being given crumbs about who Millie is as a character after a season and a half.

We should know more about her by now other than “likes violence/is good at fighting” and “is cheerful”. And also feels unimportant sometimes even thought she’d never given any indication that she’d ever struggled with that before.

Also I don’t think the voice direction for Sally Mae was done well. I liked her voice in “Harvest Moon” but it felt like the voice actress was struggling with keeping the southern accent in tact + sounding natural.

Overall, I did really like the short, but it also made me kind of sad for what could have been in terms of giving Millie more of the spotlight.

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #helluva millie #Millie #helluva boss millie #sallie may #sallie may helluva boss #helluva sallie may

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theshipperqueenisnotdone · 2 days

Text

Hazbin Hotel Swap AU

This is one of the post I hate

Context: Adam is still Angel/The Leader Of Exterminator and has Chlorokinesis/Plant Manipulation (I just really love the idea of Adam having Chlorokinesis/Plant Manipulation, okay!?) While Charlie Morningstar is still The Princess Of Hell and daughter of Lilith and Lucifer. Lilith and Adam have more of a twin relationship than ex-lover. And remember... DON'T TRUST VAGGIE!!! SHE IS BASICALLY JUDAS ISCARIOT in this AU!! Anyway, I might provide more information later if I have time, but feel free to ask me anything about this AU.)

Previous + Next

[Scene cuts to Lilith's house, showing framed photos of her family and a badly drawing of her in a dark spooky room. Lilith can be heard making snarling noise as she was working on something. As the scene goes, her room is revealed to be filled with a lot of Stuffed Owl, and stacks of them filled the boxes and tubs.]

Lilith: That's it… Almost there… Now presenting… the magic-tastical back flipping Stuffed Owl! Haha! That spits fire! [Stuffed Owl eyes glow red as its shoots flamethrower from its mouth] Hoot hoot hoot! Hold the applause please, okay. Oh, thank you, thank you. Oh god, who am I kidding? This sucks!

[She throws the Stuffed Owl at her family portrait and the badly drawing of her, lilith looks sad as she look at her family portrait and the badly drawing of her. Suddenly her ringtone plays. she picks up her phone, and was shocked who was calling her.]

Lilith: Adam? Adam! Brother calling?! HOOT! Uhm uh, uh hello, adam. He-ey, hey, hey Ada-ada. No, no! That's not good. Oh, this is the first time he's called you in years. This has to be perfect. [takes a deep breath before she picks up phone] Hey~ Whore!

[Intercut conversation between Lilith and Adam during the phone call from the hotel to her house.]

Adam: Hi, lilith…

Lilith: Hey! How are you? Oh hoot. Where-where are you these days?

Adam: You know where I am lilith. I've told you before. Remember?

Lilith: You have? Oh, yeah uh, well, you know, I um uh-

Adam: I told you when you called me five years ago, or did you not listen?

Lilith: No, no, no, no. Just, you know, just forgot. You know, I've just been really busy, you know…

[She look at her the boxes and tubs that filled with Stuffed Owl.]

Lilith: with, um, important things. [kicks Stuffed Owl]

Adam: Well, I'm actually running a hotel to rehabilitate my descendants. Maybe you saw our commercial?

Lilith: Oh, sadly, I missed it. heh heh. You know, I haven't been watching much TV lately. Scrambles the brain. [makes silly noises]. But hey! A hotel, fun.

Adam: (Sighs) Listen Lilith, I've got kind of a big ask.

Lilith: [coughs and sets down her tea] Yeah, of course. Anything in my power is yours for the asking. You just name it~

Adam: I need to speak to Heaven and one of the deadly sinner. Well, whoever's in charge up and down there, I don't care if it's Satan or mammon, just anyone who is above your daughter, above anybody. I need to go to the top.

Lilith: Oh, no. No~ No, no, no, no, Adam, no, no, no. That's, uh hah, sorry but that is BIG no.

Adam: [angrily as vine with thorn grow around his neck] Look Lilith! Just… [He sigh, the vines has calm down and slowly disappearing.] I don't ask you for much, I never have, but this, this is really important to me. It's the most important thing I've ever done. And I…need you. I need your help.

Lilith: I don't know, Adam.

Adam: Please! Just come see what I'm trying to do. You'll see why it's a really good idea. And Heaven is bound to agree if I get the chance to talk to them… Please, Lilith…

Lilith: Wait, you're…inviting me over?! After all I did? Absolutely! Uh, I'll be there in an hour. [hangs up] ♪ My Brother wants to see me~! ♪ [points at the Stuffed Owl below her] Take that, depression! HA!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel spoilers #fanfic #au idea #writing prompt #hazbin hotel swap au #swap au #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #adam hazbin #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lilith #lilith morningstar #scriptwriting #why did i make this

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the-sky-the-stars-the-sea · 1 year

Text

Get someone who looks at you the way David looks at Mary Margaret.

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bongo-clash · 2 years

Text

Peacock Au Part 2

Okay so!!! Part two of this post about the DPxDC eldritch Danny fic that I'm now calling the peacock au lmao!!!!

(Chapter two of the fic under the cut) (Edit: You can now find part 3 Here!!!)

When the feeling of being just slightly dispersed settles onto the outer layer of his skin while he’s lying in bed, Danny knows what’s about to happen.

The thing is, he’s in his pyjamas. Sure, he could just stay in his human form for the summoning- because he’s done it before and it went fine- but he never knows who it’s going to be, and being spirited away to some college students’ dorm in his pyjamas is embarrassing. And sure, having something appear in the circle in the first place is probably enough that they’re not paying attention to what he’s wearing either way, but he refuses to bank on that. So, with a sigh, he allows himself the transformation, his human appearance falling easily away.

It always feels more natural to be a ghost during rituals, probably because they’re summoning a ghost and not a human, but still, it’s different. He feels that little bit looser, maybe even a little more himself, though he guesses being a bit more glow-y is just nice generally, and the space decals that tend pop up as part of his whole light-show-summons are a homely touch. On the other hand, it does make it harder to take stock of his surroundings when he finally fades into view wherever he is. He can make out vague grey walls and floors, but that’s about it.

Well, that and the man in front of him. Blond, taller than him if he wasn’t in the air, somewhere past his forties, wearing a beige trenchcoat and looking oddly terrified. Danny can see his hands shaking just a little. Does he know this guy from somewhere?

“Uh, dude?” Danny calls, going for something light. It’s annoying being dragged from the comfort of his own home, definitely, but this guy doesn’t look like some cult member, and if he’s alone and this scared it might mean he really needs the help. Danny can sympathise with doing stupid things in stupid situations. “You good? You’re not looking too hot there.”

He knows he’s using ghost speak, but it feels weird to use English in a summoning like this, and fortunately, Danny spies a translation sigil wrapped around the inner centre of the circle, so he knows it should be translating right back to the guy in front of him. Very handy for language barriers, he’ll admit- and it’s working, too, if the reply is any indication.

“I was told you could- you could help with the pits?”

His voice is gravelly, and he can’t tell if it’s because he’s nervous, doesn’t speak much, a smoker, or all three. Either way, probably not Danny’s business, and right now he’s just curious about what the man’s talking about. “Pits? That’s kinda vague, man. What pits?”

“The Lazarus pits to, uh, to be specific. There’s a huge one cropping up under Gotham that’s not supposed to be there, and the local- I mean, the locals are getting antsy about it. I… heard you could take care of ‘em.”

Lazarus Pits. He’s heard of those, Clockwork’s mentioned them a couple of times. They’re natural portals that open when enough energy is built up, and end up stabilising into the ground instead of collapsing to help seep ambient ectoplasm into the air. They don’t work as actual portals after that, but it’s vital to keep at least a few around no matter how corrupted they can get through human interference, because it keeps the balance of both realms steady. Having too many around isn’t a good thing, though, and especially not in populated areas. It can cause ecto-contamination, which is a lot more dangerous when you haven’t been around it since birth (or if you aren’t from Amity).

Speaking of which, it certainly is stinking up the place, now that he’s aware of it. Or maybe that’s just Gotham, he’s heard a lot about-

Hang on. Gotham. Weird potentially magic dude. He knew he recognised him! That’s John Constantine! Danny’s heard of John Constantine! Sam’s got her fingers in enough credible occult spaces that they’re at least vaguely aware of some of his endeavours, but if he’s in Gotham then that probably means he’s doing something for the Batman and, wow, Danny totally would’ve tried to go more professional for this if he knew this was going to be his first encounter with the Justice League,of all things.

Well, he guesses it’s too late now. At least the guy’s not being too weird about it or anything. “Man, yeah, I’ve totally got the smell stuck up my nose now that you mention it. Do you get that as well? Since, y’know, you’ve probably dealt with a couple ghosts.”

“Uh… no, I don’t think so. But can you fix it?”

Dang, the guy seems stressed about this. Maybe he just doesn’t like being in Gotham territory? He’s pretty sure he’s heard of Batman having a thing about magic. “Sure I can.”

“…Will you fix it?”

Danny figures that if they already know about his status through his Zone maintenance duties, and he’s going to be helping the Justice League, he might as well show off a little bit. Assenting with a hum and trying not to grin, he puts his hands to the floor, and lets his ectoplasm reach out to the source of the smell, sending a flash of light across the ground as it goes through. When it twinges back a response, he closes his eyes, and his energy curls around it, threading through like needles to seams, and pushes it shut with a gentle nudge. Luckily, it hadn’t been around for too long- barely fully formed and not even corrupted by human contact yet- it would’ve be a lot more difficult if it had.

He lets his hands rise up again after a long moment, looking to Constantine for a reaction. He can’t quite gauge what the man is thinking. “Alrighty, that should’ve done it.”

“Uh… cheers?”

He’s about to say something along the lines of ‘no problem’ or ‘you’re welcome’, but then he remembers he should probably warn him about the aftermath so he doesn’t freak. “The pit shouldn’t come back again, but just as like, a PSA: you might see more shades than usual hovering around for the next while. It shouldn’t be too big a deal so long as you leave ‘em alone, though, so don’t worry about it.”

For all that Danny’s trying to be considerate here, Constantine doesn’t look very considerated. “Can I- uh, yeah, great advice. ‘Appreciate it. But, can I ask just, y’know, what you are? Or not.”

“…Dude, what d’you think I am?”He replies, thoroughly bemused. Isn’t this guy supposed to be one of the League’s paranormal experts or something? He really should be able to recognise a ghost by now. “I keep your Lazarus Pits in check. You know, the pits of the dead?”

Okay, maybe a little rude on his side, but he thinks Constantine’s expression is a bit of an overreaction; he can see the sheen of sweat across the man’s forehead reflecting the light of the sigils. “Fair enough! Forget I asked- cheers for sorting out that pit, though. Uh, don’t suppose you’ll just let me go on my way or anything now.”

“Well, I mean, this was a favour for Batman, right?” He asks blithely, pointedly not paying attention to the way the man’s face keeps contorting. He swears Sam said he was more stoic than this. “I’m gonna go- ‘cause I’ve got things to do- but I guess if something comes up I’ll come to you? Or Batman, since this is his city and all. Don’t worry, I’ll let you know.”

Figuring there’s nothing left to be said, Danny lets the return sigil on the edge of the circle activate and punt him back home, wheezing a half-sigh and arching his back once the wispy image of wherever they’d been recedes. He probably looks exhausted after all that- no matter how recently formed the pit was, it still takes a little strain, and he’d just been about to sleep before he got summoned- but looking in the mirror on his wall for confirmation, he doesn’t find his usual face. Something twinges against where his spine should be, confirming its own previously unnoticed presence in the mortal plane.

…He didn’t go ghost when Constantine summoned him, he used his true form. That must be why he looked so nervous that whole time! And, man, ghostspeak never translates over quite right in this form, either- the Ancients use a different dialect to original ghostspeak- the man probably wasn’t hearing what Danny thought he was at all. What if the only reason he wasn’t attacking was because he was terrified? What must Constantine have thought of him?

Crap. He has to fix this. How is he going to find him?

#Peppered in some of my own worldbuilding about ectoplasm/the pits in DC there but Still-#I just thought it'd be Really Funny if Danny had absolutely no clue what he was saying was coming across so terrifying #Like- sure he Can say that kind of ominous stuff on his own- but I think it'd be really great #If no one knew when it was a translation error or if he meant it #If there's any mistakes in the please be kind I forget how to read when I'm editing-#Chapter 3's already done so I should be posting that either tomorrow or the day after!!#It'll pretty much be the conclusion to this whole thing but I've been talking to Bones and she's got So Many cool ideas #That I really want to make a part 4 for because they're really fun!!!#Either way this has been really nice to do!!!#dp au #danny phantom au #dp fic #danny phantom fanfiction #dpxdc #danny fenton #danny phantom #Bongo's Aus!!!#Bongo's Writing!!!#peacock au

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