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#everyone else: *shock horror*
scp-admissions · 25 days
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HATE saying i like montauk bc i have to very very quickly go "THE VERSION ILLUSTRATED IN THE FEAR ALONE TALE + Tufto's proposal" like that damn spongebob image otherwise people will think i am a type of freak that i am Not. and the chances theyve actually read Fear Alone or Tuftos Proposal is extremely low so i then i have to explain it. your honor he did do some shit but the shock horror crimes against humanity were rumors used to generate fear to potentially contain 2317 . your honor i promise im normal
Oh yeah Fear Alone totally changed the meaning of Project Montauk.
Furthermore there are so many other scps that continuous develop and build upon the Scarlet King mythos, so it's a shame that all of it gets overshadowed by the how messed up original 231 is. Like there is a lot more to the entire Scarlet King side of SCP stories, but people still reduce all of it to "haha edgy".
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slxsherwriter · 5 months
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🌹 🌹🌹
I'm gonna cheat and give a sentence from three WIP instead of three sentences from one because I'm hyped on all of them.
Frank grinned against the shell of her ear, unable to stop the sense of pride that came with each soft mewl that left the omega as his fingers continued to tease. (Alpha Frank x Omega reader)
The raspy, grizzled voice of the older man was the only thing keeping you tethered to reality; grounding you in a way that let the desire to scream, to cry, to throw things fade into the background. (Norman Nordstrom x reader)
"Afternoon, Stuart," you greeted the older man cheerfully, clearly catching him off guard as he visibly startled. (Stuart Lloyd x reader)
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gawayne · 3 months
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hey anyone else feel like a fair portion of popular book reviewers on youtube actually do not. review books
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majimassqueaktoy · 1 year
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I've been watching kenzan again and Kiryu's affection for Haruka has me so fucked up... he's really destined to be her dad throughout all of time and space 🥺
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bookdragonquotes · 6 months
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drinksglue · 7 months
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I don't go here but how in the everloving fuck are there antis in the urbanspook/the painter fandom
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cringefailvox · 3 months
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very badly want there to be an episode where alastor's mysterious benefactor shows up and absolutely humiliates him in front of everyone he's come to begrudgingly care about. like i want him dragged to the floor on his knees, demeaned and degraded, forced to submit to someone else's authority while the rest of the hotel gang watches in shocked horror. i need him HUMBLED
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pucksandpower · 6 months
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Hey, I just read the Grid Kids series and I’m in love. I’ve got kids of my own and I remember when they first started trying to talk how everyone was practically fighting over who their first work would be and was wondering if you could do a First Word one where they are all doing the same of Seb and Readers kid. Like maybe even little nicknames of theory full name like for Charles it’s Char or for Lando it’s Lan? I thought it might be cute. But everyone gets a surprise when none of them are the kids first word and it’s someone else instead. Love your writing xx
Grid Kids: Speak Now
Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers
Summary: no one could have predicted what your daughter’s first word would be
Series Masterlist
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“No, no, no! That’s not how you say it!” You lightly tickle your daughter’s belly until she’s giggling uncontrollably. “Mama! Say Mama!”
Your daughter, a chubby little cherub with her father’s hair and your eyes, squeals with delight, her tiny hands reaching out to grab yours.
She’s been babbling for months now but has yet to say her first real word.
“Come on, bärchen,” Sebastian coos, scooping her up into his arms. “Say Papa for Papa.”
Your daughter claps her hands and gurgles happily, her eyes sparkling. She is determined to keep you both guessing, it seems.
Meanwhile, your grid kids are gathered around, watching the exchange with amusement. They’ve all been trying to coax your daughter into saying their names too but she has stubbornly resisted their charms.
“Maybe she’ll say my name first,” Charles jokes, his usual mischievous grin plastered on his face.
“Not a chance,” Max retorts, his Dutch accent thick with amusement. “She loves me the most.”
“Oh, please,” Lando scoffs, rolling his eyes. “She clearly thinks I’m the coolest brother.”
“Ha,” George laughs, “in your dreams.”
“Exactly! Because we all know that’s me,” Mick chimes in.
Lance arches an eyebrow. “How does it feel knowing you’re all wrong?”
The boys continue to bicker playfully, each one convinced that they are your daughter’s favorite.
The baby in question, meanwhile, seems oblivious to the commotion, her attention focused solely on the shiny red Ferrari parked behind you.
“Box, box!” She exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly.
Charles, standing closest to the car, freezes. His eyes widen in horror and his face drains of color. Before anyone can react, he collapses to the ground like a sack of potatoes, unconscious.
The boys gasp in shock, their voices echoing through the garage. You rush to Charles’ side, checking for a pulse. He’s alive but he’s definitely not responding.
Sebastian scoops up your daughter, her wide eyes fixed on the stricken Ferrari driver. “It’s okay, honey,” he soothes, gently stroking her hair. “Charles is just a little tired.”
He carries your daughter away, leaving you to deal with the commotion. You shake your head in disbelief.
“Ferrari trauma, I guess,” you mutter to yourself, a rueful smile playing on your lips.
As you help the rest of the grid kids revive Charles, you can’t help but feel a surge of love for your chaotic family.
They may be crazy but you wouldn’t trade them for the world.
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kennahjune · 10 months
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HEAR ME OUT?? Please—
I LOVE love LOve when like, in fics, Steve has this really weird talent or interest that nobody knows about or like nobody expects but then oddly enough it sort of fits him.
And just like— it opens up so much possibility for character projection.
My favorite is writer Steve but I’ve been growing increasingly obsessed with Steve who’s hyper fixation is snakes.
The image in my head is like— everyone’s hanging out at the trailer park for one reason or another, and they hear Robin fucking /screech/.
Everyone’s on their feet in a split second, worry and confusion and deep dread forcing the way into the forefront of their minds.
Turns out: it was a snake. A really small one at that.
Eddie and Wayne offer to take it and dispose of it, the two of them having done this various other times with the other snakes people find in the trailer park.
But Steve pushes to the front of the group yelling and scolding.
“No absolutely not!”
Eddie shares a look with Nancy, both chalking it up to Steve’s hero complex acting up and him trying to protect them from the potentially dangerous critter.
“Look, Stevie—“
“You are not going to kill that little sweetheart!”
Eddie paused, shared a confused furrow of brows with Nancy and Robin, and turned to face Steve fully.
“Stevie, baby, that’s a snake.”
Steve stood with his hands on his hips, a determined glint in his eye, and nodded. “No I thought it was a squirrel.”
Eddie sighed loudly. “Then what do we do with it?”
“Well not fucking kill it for starters! It’s harmless. Aren’t you baby?”
Eddie and everyone else watched Steve step up to the snake that was hanging from the trailer’s side door. “Um, Steve what’re you doing?”
Steve ignored them completely and simply plucked the snake from its place on the door. From somewhere beside Eddie Robin squeaked in horror and Will groaned while Lucas gave a violent shudder.
“Such a small baby aren’t ya?” Steve cooed at the little snake wrapped around his hand.
“Steve— that’s a snake,” Nancy said warily, eyeing said snake like it killed her mother. “A potentially dangerous snake.”
Steve scoffed while the snake lifted the front of its body to peer at him. “She’s not dangerous, she’s a goddamn rat snake. They’re harmless.”
Just as he said it, the snake turned its head and not his finger. Where Steve didn’t even blink, everyone else freaked.
Eddie and Robin rushed over to him, Eddie immediately taking a look at his hand but keeping his hands away from the snake. Robin kept her distance but rambled about rabies or whatever.
Steve huffed and laughed quietly. “Guys, seriously. It’s a rat snake, they’re completely and utterly harmless to humans. They have such a small amount of venom it doesn’t bother humans. And besides, this little baby’s so small she couldn’t even break the skin.”
He was right, there was no sign of breakage or even redness on Steve’s hand where he was bitten.
Eddie looked at his boyfriend a little in awe and even more in love.
Jesus Christ.
Dustin and Mike walked slowly over to Steve, each asking to hold the snake.
Steve held it out gently, Dustin taking it first and holding it delicately in his hands. When he passed it over to Mike, the snake wrapped itself around his hands and a bit up his arms. Eddie was a little in shock at the giggle the younger Wheeler let out.
Dustin, Mike and Steve sat on the trailer’s side steps and held the snake together, going back and forth about random animal topics that Eddie couldn’t be bothered to remember.
When he asked later, Will and Lucas were delighted to explain that the entire reason Dustin was allowed to join The Party was because in 4th grade he brought Mike a frog he found. Lucas explained that Mike and Dustin had both gone through and extensive reptile and amphibian phase in elementary school and still held onto some of that obsession.
From then on, whenever anyone in the trailer park found any form of snake or rodent that they wanted gone, they called Steve.
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luveline · 11 days
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Hi I love you coworker! James series feel free to ignore if you don’t like this idea but what if Remus convinced reader to go to a karaoke bar with them and she gets a little tipsy and signs her heart out and James is just heart eyes over it
thanks for requesting <3 fem!reader
“What is that?” James asks, genuinely scornful as he points at you where you’re leaning on the bar. “Is that another margarita? Jesus Christ.” 
“You should be enjoying this.” Sirius smiles around the lip of his beer. 
“Why would I enjoy this?” 
“She’s coming out of her shell, isn’t she? You’re always calling her a priss.” 
“She is a priss, but binge drinking isn’t the same as extroversion.” 
Sirius taps their beers together. “And what are you doing tonight, James?” 
James scowls as you collect your new drink. You’ve had four or five by now and they’ve more than started to affect you, your giggling endless, your hand wrapped around the crook of Remus’ arm for balance. 
“Remus! It’s your turn, hun, get up here!” your general manager calls from the stage, a mic in her hand.
“Me!” you shout suddenly, to James’ shock and Sirius’ bright laughter. “Remus, please let me have your turn, please! I know exactly what song I want to sing.” 
Remus, who’d convinced you to come through a lot of pleading and a promise that you won’t have to sing at all if you weren’t ready, looks at you like you’ve grown horns. “Are you sure?” 
“Yes? Can I please?” 
You take his arm into your hand and you look at him with widened eyes, thumb rubbing a line that James zeroes in on, doesn’t mean to, can’t believe he’s noticed at all. He’s irked you’d even look at Remus that way. 
Because you’re annoying. Yes. Very annoying. 
You drink a good half of your Margarita and ask Remus to hold it for you before you take the steps onto the stage and chat with your general manager about what song you want to sing. You put your hands on the mic stand and prepare yourself with eyebrows pinched together, determined, even though you look a little shaky at the same time. Sirius nudges James from behind, the two of them joining Remus in the small crowd of your coworkers as the music starts. 
There are two screens for lyrics. A huge one for you, a smaller for everyone else beside you. You clutch the mic and stare resolutely at the bigger one as the melody becomes recognisable. James watches in what he thought would be smugness, but instead lays somewhere between awe and mild horror as you begin to sing.
The song is Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl) by Big Head Todd & The Monsters. James loves this song, he sings it every time he has to drive Remus to cornwall. He knows every word back to front and he likes how you seem to like it too, even if you’re butchering it, and the drunken slur to your words is ridiculous. You know the chorus well enough and sing it with a beaming smile. James maybe doesn’t like you, but it’s hard not to smile when someone else is happy like that. 
“Don’t make fun of her, James! Please don’t, she’s trying her best,” Remus says at his smiling. “And she won’t come again.” 
“I’m not,” he says, not bothering to look away from you.
Your eyes scan faces and get caught on his. He can feel the moment you realise he’s watching too, see your slight falter, and then, magically, your excitement. “James! It’s Brandy! You love this song!” 
Sirius snickers at his expression. “Mate,” he says quietly, “I thought you didn’t like her?” 
“I don’t.” 
You stumble a little where you’re standing and James has to stand extremely still so as to prevent his hands from reaching out for you. “James, I didn’t take your favourite song, okay? You have to sing Don’t Stop Believin’! Oh, shit–” You don’t realise your cue to sing the chorus until it’s halfway through, but when you do find the right words, you’re extremely passionate. 
“She sounds like Melly coughing up a hairball,” James says, wrinkling his nose. 
An emotion far from disgust settles hot at the base of his neck. 
“She looks cute,” Remus says.
“Sure, if you’re blind. And deaf.” 
“Well,” Sirius says, “you do wear glasses.” 
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hyewka · 6 months
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idk if you’ve done this but fwb yeonjun who gets jealous of you being too friendly with other men
warnings; fwb, semi public, a little toxic, not proofread
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“Why does Yeonjun keep staring at you? Wait no…glaring at you. Girl. What. Have. You. Done.”
You groan, squeezing your eyes shut, deciding to drown out your thoughts by finishing your drink in one swig. This entire party you’ve been trying to ignore it. His weirdly possessive behavior.
Throwing his hand over your shoulder and snuggling you closer to him than usual, “accidentally” introducing himself as your boyfriend, then the accident turns into an “inside joke” where he just keeps introducing himself as your boyfriend like its the most hilarious thing ever—it’s all too obvious.
But then it’s not.
Not when you decide to look over at him, only to find that his arms are wrapped around a new girl. You roll your eyes. “I fucked him Yunjin. That’s what I did.”
You expect the gasps in horror and “I told you to stay away from him”, “he’s literally a manwhore!” but Yunjin only rolls her eyes making you blink rapidly in shock. “What? I already know you guys are fuckbuddies babe, that doesn’t explain why he’s been attached to your hip the past three hours. Until, well, now.”
You snap your fingers. “You noticed it too right? It’s weird! It feels like he’s jealous but then he goes and sucks another girls face right in front of me—God.” You cut off your tyrant as you feel the sudden urge to vomit watching the girl and Yeonjun get more and more handsy right across from you.
You don’t miss Yunjin’s mutter as she drags your hopeless ass away from the scene, “Fucking manwhore.”
Of course the pious Choi Yeonjun, lining up with his behavior the entire night, pulled you by the wrist to a quote secluded area at the party. It’s dark but not entirely…private.
Yet you always fall back into it, you’re always in his arms, despite the setting, not anyone else’s despite being far from exclusive. It’s not your fault he finds you when you’re most horny. Which is why he has you pinned against the wall as he fucks you with the same, if not more eagerness in him.
“Shh baby, we don’t want an audience now do we?” he whispers, taking the lead—you blink away tears, slightly making out the dyed hair had plastered onto his forehead.
You nod frantically as his hand pressed over your mouth, no doubt smudging your lipstick, slowly slips. You squeeze your eyes shut when he rolls his hips against you, thrusting sharply into you, making you slightly jolt up against the wall.
“No, no don’t shut up completely, wanna hear you. Moan my name princess. Only for my ears.” he slurs, the tipsiness evident in his voice.
“Yeonjun.” you gasp for air, “Yeonjun—no, f-fuck.”
“What?” he breathes, busying himself with pressing kisses all over your neck, stably holding you up against the wall with his arms, pressing his body flush against yours.
“What the fuck is your problem?”
It’s like he didn’t expect the sudden aggression, pausing his hungry attack to your neck for a second—until you feel his lips curl up into what you assume to be a smile against your skin again. He’ll always be a cocky prick.
You feel his breath fan, as he picks up a more rhythmic speed. “Hm?” he hums, like he’s innocent. Sly fox.
You scratch at his back, curling his shirt’s fabric into your hand, breath hitching the more he hits a spot, like he’s brutally digging into your cervix. “Don’t—don’t act dumb. Pulling me away like a child from Juyeon like that was so-” suddenly, he drives his cock further, having your body bounce like a fucking ragdoll. It’s like he’s trying to shut you up.
“It was so—mmf-embarrassing.” you manage to mewl, trying not to let yourself fall into a headspace.
“Aw. Was it?” he mocks, scoffing, hand slipping down to rub at your clit, making your legs weak like jelly all the more as they tremble to keep wrapped around his waist. “You know what’s embarrassing? Everyone knowing you’re mine yet you still having the audacity to whore yourself out.”
You gasp, scandalized—though the shock doesn’t linger on for too long—not when he’s practically splitting you open.
He hides his face between the junction of your neck and shoulder, suddenly biting down having your body jolt in pain— you let out a string of hissed curses. “Laughing at every dumb joke Juyeon makes? You know he’s not even that funny right?”
His tongue licks, then he sucks, over and over again.
“God, and then slapping his shoulder, smiling at him like he’s the shit.” He dryly laughs, getting rough the faster he rubs, “So fucking annoying.”
“Yeonjun.”
It’s like he knows what you’re going to say, and he’s trying his absolute hardest from getting you to say it, so he immediately presses his lips against yours, your moans drowned out against his. It’s sloppy, but he doesn’t stop. He kisses you, again and again and again, finding your hands to intertwine with his, pinning it against the wall. It’s so…oddly intimate.
You don’t get it, you don’t. The last time you had seen him, he was about to fuck a girl right then and there for all to see then the next he’s pulling you away like an angry boyfriend who caught his girlfriend cheating.
In fact, this isn’t even the first time. Hes always acted like a boyfriend, so much so everyone was sure you guys were together for a period of time before he was off fucking some other bitch again.
It …pisses you off.
Your orgasm washes over you, the tightening finally snapping as you finally get to breathe, heaving, seeing white as you catch your breath while simultaneously feeling Yeonjun cum in you, again. Was that the issue? Letting him keep doing that? Was that your first mistake?
“Fuck, that was nice.” He says, out of breath, staying inside for a couple more seconds before finally slipping out of you.
But you’re out of it, staring at the ground. “Hey, you good?” he asks, as he pulls up his pants. “Want me to get tissues real qui-”
“Yeonjun. We’re not exclusive.”
He pauses for a second.
Then, he laughs, buckling his jeans, “No shit?”
“So…why do you act like we are?”
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note: lol has anyone noticed how often i cut off with some dumbass cliffhanger 😭 yup thats just me not knowing how to end a fic properly ijbol forgive me 🙏🏼
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egooppidum · 5 months
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Astarion and clown
Astarion: Oh good, puns. Because clowns aren't enough of a horror already. (devnote: Not impressed at the clown's jokes)
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Player: You love the spotlight, don't you, Astarion? Here's your big chance.
Astarion: What? No. Don't you dare. This isn't funny. (devnote: Astarion is shocked that the player's volunteering him - he's genuinely a little spooked by the clown. Last line is stressed, almost hissing.)
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Player: Go on, Astarion!
Astarion: Of course, what fun! I'm going to fucking kill you. (devnote: he's just been pulled up on stage by a clown and is DEEPLY uncomfortable. Tries to loudly play along with a friendly wave in the firstline, then hisses the second to the player under his breath. Still smiling, of course.)
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Astarion: Yay. Woo. (devnote: Absolutely no enthusiasm whatsoever. (He's watching the player climb on stage with a clown. Everyone else is cheering. Astarion is not a fan of clowns))
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okwons · 8 months
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accidentally mentioning you on live
♡ idol enhypen ﹒ reader genre fluff word count 300 warnings none — bookshelf
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heeseung wouldn’t even notice your name slip through his mouth since he’s so used to it. he would unknowingly look over to the staff and have an instant change in expression — equally as shocked as them. the last thing the viewers would see is heeseung turning off the live without saying a single word
jay would play it off so well. he would casually be showing his viewers the new pictures he took on his camera and scroll a little too far which results in him revealing you. before anyone can ask about it, jay makes up an excuse to end the live and it was never to be brought up again ..
jake would be unboxing a new lego set with another member and excitedly mention that you were the one who bought it for him. the other member would immediately start nudging his arm to remind him he’s still live. after realizing what he just said, jake would turn into a giggling mess
sunghoon would be in a heated debate with the other members and suddenly announce “yn would agree with me” and then it’s pin drop silent. he would be so confused as to why everyone got so quiet .. sunghoon would finally process what he said a few minutes too late
sunoo would have a habit of ranting about you. when it comes to lives where he sits down and talks to his viewers, there’s no way he wouldn’t mention you! after sharing a couple stories, sunoo would scroll through the comments only to realize what he did and slap his hand over his mouth to stop himself from confessing anything else
jungwon would be doing a mukbang for his viewers to watch and unintentionally mention that he was eating your favorite dish. the comments would instantly flood with questions like “who’s that?” jungwon would peek at the staff with pure panic, along with a tiny smile threatening to appear on his face
riki would bring up an embarrassing story about you and his expression would suddenly be washed with horror. not because he was caught by his viewers, but only because he’s scared of the scolding he would receive from you. the minute riki locks eyes with the staff, he wouldn’t be able to contain his laughter
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© okwons y was this sm fun to write
@dollikis @yuerki @hysgf
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DPxDC : The Phantom ARG
I have been watching a lot of ARG’s and conspiracy theory on youtube lately and decided to combine the two so here we go.
The ghosts in this au will be like Deadman, you can’t see him unless you have magic, a magic artifact, or highly contaminated by ectoplasm. meaning only danny and his friends Sam and Tucker who were near the portal when it activated can see the ghosts in this au, they are invisible to everyone else in Amity Park.
In the beginning, after his accident Danny believed that he was merely hallucinating the small ghost blobs and ghost animals that initially made it through the portal thinking it was only an after effect from getting an extreme shock, and it isn’t until the first ‘incident’ the mystery meat that attacked the shool cafeteria that he realizes that what he is seeing is real.
So like any self respecting teen he tells his best friends Sam and Tucker. They both reveal that they too have been seeing strange things since the accident although not as clearly as Danny, they could still see them like watching youtube in 240p. They gather after the mystery meat incident, which they have named INCIDENT-1 or IN-1 for short as they later name it, in Danny’s room afterwards to discuss what happened. They find out that other than the three of them no one seemed to see the floating lunch lady or even head her when she talked , they only reacted after the meat started gathering and taking the shape of a monster.
Sam says that they should document what they see and what is happening in amity park and the boys agree with her. Danny become the main cameraman and investigator being the only one strong enough to get close without major injury or harm and also being able to see, hear, and feel the ghosts clearest. Sam is the main documenter and researcher she’s the one that writes down their findings and goes over the videos they have to discover new findings to note down. Tucker is the main hacker and editor he hacker the cameras in the streets and school to get footage and other information that might be needed while also making sure that they can’t be tracked. Despite having their main area of expertise they all pitch in to help each other.
While documenting they start figuring out a few key details about documenting ghosts. 1 being that unless you are using an ecto-camera the less technologically adavanced the devices you use are the better results you get. 2 the stronger the ghost is the more visible they are, the stronger they are the more dangerous they are ( danny in ghost form is by far the most visible on camera, and in real life extremely clear to his friends). and finally 3 as time goes on certain objects/ places around town have started to become strange or gain peculiar features.
Jazz ,still not believing in ghosts because they are not visible ,becomes suspicious of what the Trio are doing, so they lie to her and tell her that they are making a sort of anolog horror based on their town to cope with the stress of the recent events happening.
realizing that ‘hey this actually a really nice way to destress from our problems’ and with that one lie that they told jazz the Trio became fully committed to making a full on ARG , with hidden messages, pictures and code. so with Tucker’s coding and editing skills and knowledge of ciphers and wordplay, Sam’s organizing skills and eye for hints and details, and Danny’s obsession with stars and everything space and his way with emotions, along the very much real ghosts and they were all set to make the best ARG.
They named it THE PHANTOM ARG, finishing up the last details they finally post their first video on youtube titled ‘IN-1 : Mystery Meat’. Later on once they get the hang of it they post about ‘how to deal with the ghosts’ ‘evacuation procedures’ ‘cooking with ectoplasm’ and artwork depicting the ghosts and short presentations explaining their characteristics. They even make a fully functional website thats called ‘welcom to Amity Park’ where there are hidden messages, codes and information.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
In Gotham
Bernard Dowd is watching youtube when a video thumbnail catches his eye, it looks like a strange meat monster, he was intrigued. having nothing better to do, he decides to watch it. he looks at what the chanel is about and is instantly hooked, theory’s are exploding from his mind.
he can’t wait to tell Tim about this he would absolutely love this type of mystery solving.
random ideas for this au
The GIW are a big thing in this au, they can’t take down what the trio are posting because Tucker is a hacking god.
Danny is only called to as phantom when he is a ghost never as a human ( because of this no one knows that danny is a halfa)
the trio could go by code names, polaris(danny),pharaoh(tucker),gaia(sam). or any other name you think is sutable.
all codes, ciphers, and hints are based on either science and technology(tucker), plants and animals(sam), or space and ghosts(danny).
the ghost portal accident and opening is unkown to the public and is only referd to as the Accident and people are never told what this accident is only ‘since the accident’ or ‘after the accident’.
there is an extremely hidden video that requires you to solve an impossible amount of hints and clues, that is of the portal opening. it’s called IN-0:The Accident.
(the video shows two people a man and a woman jack and maddie in hazmat suits standing in front a large metal tunnel, two kids jazz and danny siting in front of them, the scientists plug the machine but it fails, they disappointedly leave,*fast foward*, three kids, the trio are standing in front of the portal, they talk, danny puts on a hazmat and walks into the tunnel, it whirls on, the doors shut, the video glitchs as the sound of the machine starting up get louder, the screen turns black but the sound of danny screaming are loud and clear, the screaming goes on for a few minutes before suddenly cutting off, the screan clears up but its still a bit glitchy, the portal is open swirling green with sam and tucker standing in front of it, danny is nowhere to be seen)
danny may or may not be ghost king
This is my attempt at drawing the LUNCH LADY.
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DANGER: ⭐️⭐️
( rating may change)
please add, use, change as much as you like. i’d love to see what you come up with and how this idea could expand.
just make sure to tag me or tag it as The Phantom ARG.
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Make It Back
A/N: A right of passage- sticking the reader character into the 'Andrea shot Daryl' scene :) Reader goes OFF on her, so be prepared lol. Sorry if you love Andrea
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem! Reader
WC: ~4k
Warnings: talk of Daryl's injuries, falling down the cliff, Walker attack- nothing too graphic; Andrea shooting Daryl but just grazing him; mentions of gore/blood- nothing too graphic; angst, comfort, fluff, cuddling; Daryl being sassy; reader character fighting with Andrea (yelling match)
Summary: You confront Andrea after she shoots Daryl, thinking he's a walker. With your anger taken out on her, you then comfort Daryl as he spends the night in the Greene farmhouse.
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You heard the gunshot. Everyone on the farm did. You just didn’t know exactly what had happened.
Following Lori’s lead, you jogged around the house, hoping it wasn’t another accident like the one that almost killed Carl. It was a single shot. Why would anyone risk a lone round out in the open like this? On this beautiful farm.
Once you circled the house, landing in a clump of Herschel’s family and a few others from your group, all you saw was sun. Its rays were blinding yellow as they cut over the tall, deep treeline on the edge of the meadow. It was the middle of a gorgeous day.
You heard Rick scream. It was a booming, worried thing. Then he screamed again.
“What the hell is going on here?” Herschel bellowed. 
You moved closer to the field, the gravel of the driveway turning to grass under your feet as you neared the van. Dale was standing beside it with his hands on his head, panic clear in his figure as he looked out to the scene in the pasture. 
“Shit,” Andrea said as she hastily climbed down the ladder from the top of the van. She started whining, more to herself than anyone else. “No, no, no, Daryl.”
“What?” you asked, a cold shock running down your spine from the back of your neck to your heels in the dirt. “What? What about Daryl?”
“I-I thought he was a walker,” she said.
Your head whirled to the cluster of men at the treeline. You tripped, your feet rooted to the ground in horror and misunderstanding. Was Andrea actually saying-
“I shot him.”
You bolted at her confession. These days, you were used to running, having done plenty of it through the woods to escape walkers. Then, you had to be careful of roots and puddles and dead bodies and the trees slowed you down, making sprinting difficult. Now, as you watched Rick fall to his knees in the distance, reaching for Daryl’s head after it hit the ground, speed came easily to you. The open meadow of freely growing grass under the clear blue sky was practically a racetrack.
Andrea panted behind you and the useless coins in Dale’s jeans clinked together, but you were faster, your feet agile in their swiftness. Your boots didn’t pound into the dirt like theirs. You sped to Daryl, only slowing when Rick threw one of Daryl’s arms over Shane’s shoulder and took the other one over his own. Daryl’s body fell limp against them, his feet dragging.
As the men caught their balance, you took Daryl’s face in your hands, seeing it drenched in blood.
“He’s unconscious,” Rick said to you. “We’ll get him back to the house.”
You nodded, otherwise silent. 
Andrea, however, let loose her apologies and worries in a shrill voice that made everyone around tense up like their limbs were attached to drawstrings. 
You didn’t listen to her words. Or T-Dog’s or Glenn’s and you didn’t notice Rick pull something from Daryl’s neck. Only the grass had your attention as your mind ceaselessly spun. Your boots pushed the tall blades around, making them sway with your every step. The shades of green were glowing in the slowly setting sun until they were marred- darkened by the looming three-headed shadow making its way across the field. Daryl’s blood dripped with every step, leaving red droplets behind with the last of the dew.
“I’m sorry,” Andrea said. When she touched your arm, you jumped, jarred back from the peace of the meadow and into the grisly present.
You didn’t answer her.
Daryl was still unconscious by the time Rick and Shane laid him down in the bedroom. While they’d carried him into the house, you beelined straight to Maggie, asking for a rag and some warm water. You ducked into the bedroom and dodged the panicking men so you could sit on the bed and wipe as much grime from Daryl’s face and hands as you could manage before leaving Herschel in peace to bandage his wounds.
When the door to the bedroom closed you out, you sat on the floor in the hall. Earlier, you had wondered if what Rick told you was true, if Daryl was only unconscious. If the bullet had truly only grazed him. You only fully believed Daryl was alive when you washed his face clean. His brow even crinkled when the wet cloth touched it. He was in there still. 
Lori sat down quietly next to you in the hallway. She patted your knee. She didn’t have to say anything. You knew her well enough by now to know what she thought. You’re a good friend to him, she’d say. And he doesn’t have many.
You leaned your head back against the wall with a soft thunk and closed your eyes. It was tranquil there for a moment before a familiar, unwanted voice interrupted. 
“Can I talk to you?”
You opened your eyes to see Andrea standing above you and Lori.
“Now’s not a good time,” you said. It was awkward and uncomfortable. “I’m waiting for- for some word.”
“I’ll be quick,” she asked, sliding down the wall and sitting beside you.
Andrea had a knack for rubbing you the wrong way at the worst times. You wouldn’t call yourself a ‘strong personality,’ but she certainly was. Whatever it was deep down in you was constantly butting heads with whatever lived in her core. You disagreed with her most of the time, but tried your best to be patient and gracious given the losses she’d suffered and the emotions clearly wracking her. Still, you couldn’t help but feel she went about most things all wrong.
Like insisting she speak to you now.
So you stood up. You asked Lori to come find you when Daryl woke or when you could go visit him- whatever came first- and you left the house. The turmoil in your chest almost made you scream. But instead of letting it rip through you, you sucked in a deep breath and walked down the front steps. To be alone.
“(Y/N), wait.”
You could tell it was her by the sound of her voice. 
“Andrea,” you warned, “I’m not in a place to talk right now.”
“To anyone? Or just to me?”
“Does it matter?” you asked, spinning around in the gravel to face her. “Can’t you just respect that I’m- I’m trying to-”
“What?” she shouted, hands in the air. “Trying not to yell at me? What if I want you to? What if I want you to scream at me? Tell me I’m reckless! Tell me-”
“Tell you what you need to hear? That’s not my job.” You were calm, considering the outburst in front of you. “Just leave me be.”
“No.” She ran in front of you, standing with her feet spread wide, blocking your path from the farm house. Like a child. “I need to… I need to apologize. To you. For what I did to Daryl.”
A laugh escaped you. “Apologize to me?”
“Yes. And-”
“You know who you need to apologize to, Andrea?”
“Daryl, I know, but-”
“And Herschel and Rick and Glenn and T-Dog, and everyone else you put in danger when you decided to not do what you were told.”
You watched her jaw clench and set in place. Lowly, she said, “I don’t need to be told what to do.”
“Apparently you do. Apparently you don’t have your head screwed on straight!” you said.
“What’s that supposed to mean-”
“No, Andrea!” you cut her off with a stabbing shout. “You’re gonna follow me around like this and beg for a piece of my mind? Let me give it to you! Lord knows no one else here will.” You took her arm, leading her away from the front of the house where your temper- or loss of it- wouldn’t disturb Herschel’s family. When she tried to talk over you, tell you she knew what she was doing with that gun in her hands, you snarled at her. “Shut up! I’m speaking now.”
***
You didn’t realize that the hidden spot you led her to happened to be just below the bedroom Daryl and the other men were in. You had no clue that your every word rode the breeze up and through the window above where Rick, Shane, and Daryl could hear you as clearly as if you stood right before them.
And you didn’t know Daryl was already awake.
Shane, arms crossed over his chest, peeked out the window at the sound of Andrea’s voice. He whistled to Rick. “Catfight.” 
“What?” Rick asked. He followed Shane’s gaze and shook his head when he saw you. “Nah, (Y/N)’s good. She’ll keep her head.”
“Wouldn’t be so sure,” Daryl grumbled. “Girl’s got a temper.”
“Never heard anything out of her,” Shane said.
“Thas ‘cause you ain’t never heard her complain ‘bout you.”
“Man, shut up,” Shane growled over Rick’s chuckles. “If (Y/N) gives Andrea a talkin’ to, that’s one less thing on my list.”
Daryl violently shifted the pillow under his head. “Dun even wanna know what’s on yer list.”
Shane shushed him, spitting on the window screen, and nudged Rick. “Wanna listen to her.”
***
You stuck an accusing finger at Andrea, keeping her staring at you and squinting into the low sun. “You need to understand, there’s no ‘girl jobs and boy jobs’ here. It’s not that simple. Just because you don’t like doing laundry and washing dishes doesn’t mean you get a gun to flaunt around by default.”
“They’re wasting my skills!” she hissed.
“Those guys,” you pointed out to the pasture, where Daryl went down, “Rick, Shane, Daryl- those guys are trained with those weapons. They were fucking cops and hunters, Andrea! That’s why they get the guns right now, not because they’re better than us, or whatever the hell story you’ve told yourself.”
“Then I should be trained the way they were,” she said. “Before they took it from me, I had my own gun for years-”
“After what you did today, I hope you never get your hands on another gun! You put every one of those guys in danger today. What if your aim was further off, huh? What if you shot Glenn? Or Rick? You could have killed him right in front of his boy! Right after Carl got back on his feet, doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“Of course it does!” 
“Are you sure?” The sun was beating down on your back. The heat of its rays added to the roiling in your gut, making sweat drip down the side of your face and pool on your lower back. Its slick had your t-shirt clinging to you. “Are you really sure? ‘Cause if your shit aim was a half an inch better, you would have killed him today! One of our own. And you’re acting like you barely care- you’re here apologizing to me?”
“You’re closest to him,” she grumbled. “I was trying to be-”
You spoke over her meaningless words. “Daryl is an asset to this group. He keeps us safe, feeds us- he was coming back from looking for Sophia and what thanks does he get? A fucking bullet to the head. You took down a good man today-”
“I thought he was a walker!” Andrea screamed in defense.
“So what?” Your throat ached from its work and Andrea flinched. You forced a calming breath before you continued slowly and deliberately, hoping some of your words would actually stick in her head. “We are so lucky we’re allowed on this property. That we found this doctor.”
“I know.”
“And he asked one thing in return. No guns. You were told by Rick, by Shane- no guns. You saw- you thought you saw one walker and you waste a bullet on it? That one gunshot could have led a whole herd to this house, Andrea. What would have happened then?”
“I get it, okay?”
“I don’t think you do. Four men went out there to take down that walker. They explicitly told you not to shoot that gun. And you did it anyway. And for what? Pride?”
She stared at you. Then she shrugged flippantly. “I wanted to do it. I knew I could do it.”
“Well, I hope it was worth it to you.”
***
Shane whistled again from his spot in the window. “If we ever need a lawyer, she’s the one.”
Daryl laid his head back on the pillow after holding it in the air to listen carefully to your argument. His cheeks, ears, neck and chest were hot and flushed from your words about him. 
“She still down there?” he asked. 
“No,” Rick said. He rounded the foot of the bed and walked towards the door of the bedroom. “I’ll go check on her. She’ll wanna know you’re alright.”
“He’s red as a tomato,” Shane said, slapping Daryl’s foot, “but alive, right Daryl?”
“Barely,” he grumbled. 
***
It was Lori who found you first. She grabbed your wrist and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Daryl’s okay,” she said. “You can go up and see him now.”
You ran your palms up over your cheeks and into your hair, feeling the sweat that had gathered. You sighed. “Maybe later. He should probably rest.”
“He was askin’ for you,” Rick said, appearing behind Lori with a hand on the small of her back. “Go on up.”
At that, you nodded and headed for the bedroom.
Miraculously, you didn’t run into anyone else as you made your way through the house. You would have been embarrassed to see one of the Greenes after what had gone down today in the pasture or even after scolding Andrea, whether anyone had heard you or not.
You couldn’t quite get yourself to open the bedroom door, even as you stood before it, hand on the knob. There was no talking or snoring or shifting of sheets from the inside and you debated if you would be a disturbance or a comfort to whatever mood you’d meet inside.
Finally, at length, you pushed it open.
Daryl was shirtless, legs tangled in the thin sheets on the large bed. He only took up a small portion of it, though he was laying almost diagonally across it so he could watch the door. Of course he and his tracker’s ears had heard you open it. He looked at you with narrowed eyes. 
“Hey killer,” he said.
You rolled your eyes. “Don’t even.”
You stood in the doorway, watching him. His arm was tucked tight under his head as he looked away from you and down into the sheets. He tucked them up all around him, blocking his injury and most of his skin from view. You knew why, but ignored it. You instead stared at the bandage tied around his head. It made his short hair stick up wildly, like a bloody coyote in the woods. 
“You wanna be alone, or you want me to stay?” you asked, hanging onto the doorknob. 
He shrugged. “Dun matter ta me.”
That was the closest to a yes you were ever going to get. You closed the door behind you with a soft click and walked to the emptier side of the bed to sit on its edge. “You need anything? Water, or-”
“Got it,” he said, blindly pointing to the nightstand beside the bed.
“Kay.” The air in the room was hot, but since the sun was setting lower and lower each minute, you knew there’d be a breeze blowing through the lacy curtains soon enough. You wiped your brow again. “How are you feeling?”
“‘Bout as bad as I look.”
“You look like shit.”
“Thanks.”
You breathed out a laugh. “You looked like death itself before, though, so this is an upgrade.”
He glared at you, but it was playful. For him, you knew it was. “Well, I was shot.”
“Yeah.” 
You swallowed hard at the reminder. Next to his glass of water was the bowl and cloth you’d brought to him earlier. You reached for it now, wringing it out some before bringing it to his forehead which was as damp with sweat as yours was. 
“What else happened out there?”
“Nuthin’,” he said, shrugging off the cloth. 
You didn’t budge and asked again. “You look rough, Dare. Herschel said there was something with your side too? I saw all the blood.”
He was quiet, attention again on the sheets as you dabbed at his forehead and cheeks. There was still blood on his chin and grime on his neck- mud and something else you didn’t care to guess at. You stopped at his shoulders. It was clear he didn’t want you looking anywhere near his chest or back, buried in the sheets. 
Then you noticed him watching you.
“You…”
“Hm?” you pushed.
“You were worried? ‘Bout… ‘bout me.”
“Of course I was. Still am. You’re one of us, we’re all worried-”
“I fell. And a couple’a walkers found me.”
Panic shot through you like lightning, branching through your veins and up your limbs. “Walkers?” No one told you. No one said anything about a bite or scratch or anything- “Is that, the injury on your side, it’s from a walker?”
“No,” he was quick to correct. “Nah, I fought ‘em off. Didn’t get me.” “Christ,” you whispered. You squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to keep the unshed tears stuck in your eyes.
“When I fell down the cliff, I took an arrow through my back.”
It didn’t-couldn’t-register. “You fell down a cliffside?”
“Twice.”
That was all you could take. The emotion, the stress and panic of the day, of the weeks past, caught up to you in one drowning swell. You felt your lips tremble and tried to keep them shut up tight, tried to count the bumps in the washcloth still in your hands, dripping on the knee of your jeans.
“Ay,” Daryl said, gruffly. He took the washcloth from you and smacked your arm with it before tossing it near its bowl. “Dun do that. Dun- dun cry fer me-”
“Argentina?”
“Wha?”
It made you laugh. It was a wet, snotty laugh and the curve of your cheek pushed out a fat tear that carved its way down your face. “It’s a song,” you said.
“Don’t start singin’ neither.”
You chuckled again, losing more tears and the fight to not cry in front of Daryl. 
With a painful grunt, he moved himself on the bed, opening a spot for you. He patted the empty space, mumbling. “Come on.”
You kicked off your boots and laid down on the bed, mirroring him. One arm supported your head, while the other tucked tight against you, keeping to your own space as you looked at him. His teeth dug into his lip over and over as he studied the hair and freckles on his arm as if he’d never seen it before. 
“Were you scared?” you whispered.
After a long while, narrowed blue eyes met yours and he nodded.
“Out there alone.” Your voice broke, shaking with the tight breath in your chest. 
“S’alright. M’back now.”
You flopped on your back, away from him for a chance to breathe. You were losing your grip and you didn’t want to break in front of him. You were there to support him, not force him into comforting you. But the thought of him in fear and suffering alone was stubbornly lodged in your throat. 
“When I was out there climbin,’ that’s what I was thinkin’ ‘bout,” Daryl said. “Thought ‘bout comin’ back. Seein’ ya. Knew I had ta get back.”
His words hung in the air. They were soft and open, his voice less harsh than usual. 
“That’s right,” you said. Using the collar of your t-shirt, as sweaty and dirty as it was, you wiped the tear tracks from your face and cleared your eyes.
“Now we both look bad as I feel,” Daryl said.
“Shut up,” you said. But you laughed.
The air felt clearer now. It wasn’t so stifling hot and you watched the transparent curtains dance in the breeze coming in through the window. Again, you turned to him, laying on your side, able to study him more. Daryl, however, seemed like he couldn’t bear the attention. His flitting gaze fell on just about everything in the room except you until he seemed to settle upon the safety of the bare ceiling above, studying it as if it were a map to a hidden treasure. Like a cure to the world’s mess.
“You okay?” you finally asked.
“Did you mean it? What ya said?”
“When?”
One of his hands flew up, gesturing toward the window. “Earlier. To Andrea.”
You hummed, lips glued together for a moment. “You heard all that?”
He chuckled. “Loud and clear. She deserved it.”
“Mm. Just lost my temper.”
He grunted, agreeing. “But’cha- what ya said ‘bout me.” He struggled for the words, throat and mouth working for the right thing to ask. “Said I was a good man, ya mean that?”
“Of course.” You sat up, moving your face into his line of vision. You made him look at you. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it. And I wouldn’t be here with you right now if I didn’t think it.” Your fingertips grazed his skin, tickling down his cheek until they turned the other way, your knuckles running the same path for good measure. “You are a good man. I see you. I see the things you do and no matter how much you like to hide it, I know you have a big heart. I’ve seen it.” You gave him a soft shove on the shoulder, teasing. While you were there, close to him, you brushed the hair off his forehead before returning your hands to yourself and laying back flat on the bed.
He grunted and pressed his lips together, staring at where your face had been, the spot that was just the bare ceiling now. Then he shrugged away from you and turned to the opposite wall and grumbled, “S’not what I asked, girl.”
“Gave ya some extra bang for your buck, that’s all,” you said. When he didn’t turn or even chuckle, you bent towards the floor for your boots. “Want me to go? So you can get some rest?”
He gave you nothing in answer. You at least hoped he heard what you said, took it to heart. But, you thought, that’s what you get for blubbering all over his bed. Only slightly bothered, you leaned towards the nightstand to see if he had enough water for the evening. Then, you’d leave-
“Dun haf’ta go,” he mumbled. 
“Oh.”
“So long as ya don’t go all girly ga-ga on me again.”
You narrowed your eyes at him as he peeked at you over his shoulder. “You mean telling you that I actually care about you? Then don’t go tryin’ to die on me again.”
He flopped over. “Ya think I wanted to fall off the damn cliff? Fuckin’ horse threw me off.”
Setting your boots back down, you settled into the bed next to him. “Horse shoot you with your own crossbow too?”
“You shut your mouth, girl.”
“Mhmm.” you hummed, grinning.
Like two parallel beings, you laid opposite each other, close, but not touching. You used your own arm for a pillow and tucked yourself under the sheet of the bed. Daryl looked past you, as if watching the door as another breeze blew through the room.
“Here,” he said, shimmying up towards the head of the bed and sliding the arm of his uninjured side under your head. You laid close, tucking your arms into your chest so only your elbows and your knees crossed over into Daryl’s space.
At least, it was that way until he leaned down into you, resting his chin on your forehead and letting his other arm drop over your side. You let loose a sigh at the touch- he’d made it back.
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fickleminder · 3 months
Text
sacrificial lamb
The impossible choice between you and the Devildom.
I can’t believe I didn’t see anything based on this cliffhanger yet. I gotta do everything myself, don’t I. Spoilers for the Frost event!
“Well, it was nice knowing you guys.”
The joke fell flat as everyone’s heads whipped towards you with varying degrees of shock and horror.
“You… How can you possibly think that we’d ever consider—”
“It’s the classic trolley problem. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,” you explained with a sad smile. “You of all people should understand that.”
Diavolo visibly winced. You were right, as always. The fate of the Devildom and all its denizens hung in the balance.
“There has to be another way.” Solomon shook his head, unwilling to accept the ultimatum. “Barbatos, let me try talking to it—”
“I’m afraid we are out of options. The white wolf expects an answer before it returns to the ice realm, and we do not have any bargaining power at the moment.”
Lucifer’s grip on your hand tightened. You didn’t realize when he’d grabbed it, but now it was the only thing keeping you upright.
There’s a rumor that the white wolf likes beautiful things. It freezes them and keeps them in its personal collection. Thirteen’s words burned at the back of your mind and sent chills down your spine. You knew better than to take rumors at face value, but the reaper was rarely wrong about these kind of things. Your mental impression of a soft, fluffy good boy was quickly twisting into one of a sadistic beast straight out of a nightmare.
The impatient howls echoing from the summoning chambers weren’t helping your nerves either.
“What if I went and bought you some time?” You whispered to Lucifer, who’d been watching quietly from the sidelines as Diavolo, Barbatos and Solomon dissolved into frantic discussion. “Maybe this arrangement isn’t permanent. I could go with it for now, until you find something else it wants more than me.”
“Out of the question.” The demon shot you down without hesitation. “There’s no guarantee the white wolf will respond to our summons a second time, and only it knows the way to the ice realm. If we let you go now, we risk losing you forever.”
All the breath left your lungs in a shaky exhale. An unbidden image popped into your head: a crystal statue of a human figure preserved in ice, curled up for warmth that would never come, a hand reaching out for loved ones who would never be seen or held again.
Lucifer drew you closer as you shivered, and you decided to let him think the cold was finally getting to you.
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